


The Fall of Spades

by Haikyuuvlb



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, M/M, Romance, Sweet Devil, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haikyuuvlb/pseuds/Haikyuuvlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred the young King of Spades is stuck in a stalemate of a war with the King of Clubs Ivan. What will this king do in order to save his kingdom from utter ruin, and why does he feel like he doesn't quite fit in with everyone else? A combination of Cardverse and SweetDevil. Warning: Gore, graphic sex. RP with nuclear-taste UKUS/USUK</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold winter night; the rain pelted the castle in heavy waves lightning was the only source of light guiding the monarch as he ascended his tower. The war with the Clubs kingdom had been a long and financially exhausting one that was now stuck in a stalemate. The King sighed as he recalled the troubles and pleas of his people, begging for an end to the war. If they wanted the war over then that is what he would do for his beloved citizens, no matter the cost to himself.

The wooden door to his secret room stood in front of him, taking a deep breath the king slid his key into the lock turning it until he heard a soft click. Inside the small room was a simple black table with a sword case placed upon it, the five candle stands were placed in a star shape at the edges of the summoning circle drawn so carefully on the ground. The monarch stepped into the room locking the door behind him before making his way to the table. He looked over the supplies using the dim light the candles provided; opening the sword case the King inspected the quality of the blade as it rested in its case as best he could in the near dark room.

The King withdrew the sword out of its case holding it out in front of himself as he began to speak in a long dead tongue. “EGO voco vos oh valde diabolus of bellum.” The king cut his wrist with the sword he had made especially for this day, he let the blood flow from his wrist until a small puddle formed on the ground. “EGO dedi meus cruor ut imbibo pro vestri infinitas infinitio sitis.” He now presented the very same blade used to slit his wrist. “EGO dedi is vesica adservio in vestri exitosus vis.” Throwing his hands up in the air the King called out demanding, “Ostendo vestri ut mihi quod tribuo meus votum.”

((I summon you, oh great devil of warfare. I offer my blood as drink for your endless thirst. I offer this blade to aid in your destructive nature. Show yourself to me and grant my wish.))

Upon his command the candles in the room went out leaving the king in total darkness. His heart beat quickly in fear of what his eyes could not see. “Speak.” The King commanded to the darkness, not sure whether he desired the quiet or success more.

"Vocatis me et ego respondebo," hissed a sultry voice. It echoed in the walls, giving it no hint to its source. Moments passed, time frozen in the air, before two glowing eyes appeared startlingly close to the king of Spades' face. They were a bright emerald and cast a light of its own. A nocturnal creature, a predator of the night. ((Speak to me and I answer))

The King felt his heart freeze in his chest at the sound of the voice, and then rise up into his throat when the gaze of the creature appeared in front of him. “I wish to make a contract.” The monarch demanded out spoke in his mother tongue, fear causing all other languages to flee his mind. He refused to show weakness to the demonic being in front of him.

The eyes narrowed cheerfully. The devil was grinning. "And what does his highness request that cannot be granted in the corporeal world?" He was very amused, not at all surprised that his new client was a royal. Surprisingly (or not surprisingly) enough, it was fairly common that he would be summoned by royalty. They had the means and knowledge to do so, and they out of everyone else were desperate enough to sell their soul for the effects of a few years on this plane of existence.

“I wish for the complete and utter ruin of the Clubs kingdom. I do not yet possess the power to subdue them by mortal means.” Then King informed the devil gaining back a little of the confidence he lost upon the creatures first words. “That is where you come in. Destroy Clubs and you may have whatever you desire that is within my power to give.”

"You mean within the power for me to take," he amended. The flamed flickered back on the candle wicks, and standing in front of the king was a creature more beautiful than any human but far more promising than mortal desires. The devil licked his lips, flicking his eyes up and down the man's body. Two horns protruded from his head of fiery red hair. But what was most impressive, of course, were the eyes. Even in the light, they still glowed, subdued but perceptible. The devil stepped the remaining short distance between them, resting a hand on the king's chest. "You want a weapon yielding greater destruction than any human can craft." The devil hummed, running his hand up and down over his chest. "That can be arranged." 

“How long will it take to make?” The King asked anxiously concerned more with his people’s well being than the attractive chosen appearance of a demonic creature. The slim digits of the creature dragging along his chest cause the hairs covering his body to stand on end. His body told him to run, yet his mind was set on the end of the war and his people’s happiness and a hint of comfort at the strangely familiar presence.

"Patience is a virtue." The devil's lips curled wickedly, and his eyes sparkled up at the King. "Don't fret. Your terrible weapon of war won't be too late." The devil's barbed tail flicked against the stone floor in amusement at the king's impatience. This was a man who cared greatly for his kingdom; so much so that he was willing to give his eternal soul for it. The devil knew, however, that the mortal's designs were as much out of protection as it was of ego.

The King felt a flare of rage go through him causing him so shove his finger at the devil poking him in the chest bellowing, “Listen here demon! I don’t think you understand the importance of this deal. Without it my people will die. Though I doubt you would understand that or even care, as all that matters to you is the souls of those who make contracts with you.” The king stood as tall as he could manage trying to appear intimidating to the creature of the night.

The devil unaffectedly dusted off the spot the king's finger touched and smoothed it out. He was infuriatingly composed. "I suppose you expect me to be intimidated by you. I hate to remind you but I do not bow to a king. Not Your Highness, anyway." The devil finally deigned to look in his eye. "But I am your servant by contract. Indentured, if you will. If I don't hold up my end, well, there are consequences for me, as well." He straightened his vest. "I'll get right on it."

The king glared in annoyance at the creature for treating him with such disrespect. “Fine. Name your price, Demon.” The king growled out.

"I haven't decided yet~" His sing-song voice fluttered in the air. He flicked the king's nose and chuckled at his reaction. "I think, at least for now, it's been a long time since I've left my mark." The devil's red tongue glided over his lips sensuously. "Cause mayhem." Dark thought flickered behind the light in his eyes as he looked him up and down again. "Perhaps, for now," he emphasized on the /for now/, "I shall be queen."

“Queen?” The King questioned disbelievingly. “You could ask for all the remaining riches in the kingdom, control of Clubs country upon their defeat, even my very soul whatever you could dream of and yet you choose to be my queen. A near powerless position and a terrible choice, but fine I accept your price demon. If you desire to be queen then so it shall be.”

"It's not useless." He nonchalantly waved the king off with a flick of his wrist. "It simply hasn't been utilized properly." Wickedness played on his lips and danced in his eyes as the devil fixed the king into his sights.

“May I know my future Queen’s name?” The monarch asked extending his hand to shake upon the deal.

"You may call me Arthur. And you are Alfred. Well then, shall we 'shake' on it?" As Alfred reached out his hand, Arthur snatched it and pulled him forward. He swung his arm around the king's neck in a vice-like grip and crushed their lips together. It was a contract kiss, a display of mutual agreement between their sealed lips. Arthur groaned, taking his pleasure of Alfred's taste and texture before ripping away.

Alfred clapped his hand over his mouth eyes widening in shock due to the unexpected kiss. Momentarily throwing him off track before he grabbed the sword he had used to cut his wrist earlier and pointing it towards the demon. “Pull a stunt like that again and I will have your head beast. My queen in name you may be, but in my mind you’re worth is only as good as the prize you deliver.” The king growled out.

"Oh, I have a chance~" He hid a demur, dainty chuckle behind the back of his fingers, the devil's jade eyes cast with pure delight behind them. His eyes held the kind of glee one had over a secret they took joy in simply not telling. "Don't be so stiff; no wonder you're single." He waved Alfred off bemusedly with a flick of his wrist. A gloved hand came up to smooth through his fiery hair. "Then, if you have no more requests of me, begone. Our conversation is over."

Alfred scoffed at the demon’s attitude, but placed the sword back on the table grabbing a long strip of cloth to wrap around his wrist. “So be it. When can I expect the arrival of the weapon?” He questioned as he headed towards the door.

"Don't be so impatient." He was examining his nails; they were dark and tapered to a razor-sharp edge. The devil seemed to be preoccupied on some other matter, already tuning out Alfred's existence before the man even left the room.

Alfred grimaced at the demon’s answer as he unlocked the door, “Fine. At least ensure you at least appear human before appearing in my court and do plan your back story accordingly.” With that the king left the room relocking the door behind him. If the demon wanted to be an annoyance than Alfred would deal with him as such. As he descended the stairs the weary king prayed to God that the weapon would be worth such a deal and hoped he would not regret accepting the demon’s price.

Days passed, and not one sign of the devil. Each time the sun settled in the west and rose again in the east, anxiety grew like a cancer in the king's heart. Then, one day, he appeared.


	2. Chapter 2

A courier flew into the great hall, near tripping over himself with the news: "Your Highness! The Queen of Spades has been found!" While the king was appointed directly from the loins of his or her predecessor, the queen was chosen by the Mark that appeared on his or her body. The queen was usually born from nobility, but sometimes a citizen born from abject poverty proved to be the most worthy queen of them all. Alfred's kingship was curious in that he ruled alone. His queen was never found.

Arthur didn't arrive until a day later. He came with a train of royal guardsmen clustered protectively around him, and Alfred didn't actually see the devil until they parted before him. Arthur's human features changed only in detail; while his body and face remained unchanged, all features giving away his otherworldly identity was gone. His mop of fiery red hair was blond now, and his eyes were more human, yet no less inviting. Gone was the slick, ebony-barbed tail and massive wings, along with the goat horns. "Arthur" looked every bit as human as the guards that surround him. He was dressed in merchant ware; leather jerkins under a tunic, stained from exposure and wear. The head guardsman explained that Arthur was wandering merchant and had not known the mark on the small of his back was a Spades Mark. Arthur had the decency to blush, but a creeping smirk hid behind his fringe. 

"Your Majesty," the devil finally spoke, eyes fixed reverently to the ground as he addressed his ruler, "I am honored to be your second half in the ruling of Spades in this dire hour."

Alfred felt his eye twitch in annoyance; of course this demon would make a ruckus out of simply becoming queen after disappearing for so long. The king dreaded to find out what sort of trouble his new queen would cause once crowned. “Yes, I suppose you would.” Alfred replied coldly his eyes showing no warmth or happiness at the demon’s arrival. “Very well, have my queen, taking to his chambers and prepared for dinner.” Alfred nearly growled out, betraying his image of a kind and loving King dedicated to his people’s wellbeing. As the servants lead Arthur past Alfred headed towards the queen’s chambers Alfred quietly growled to the demon, “You had better up hold your end of the deal my queen.”

The guardsmen broke off and Alfred's (now Arthur's) attendants guided Arthur to the queen's apartments. As the devil crossed the hall and ascended the stairs, he tossed him a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the corridor. 

Upon news of the of the queen's discovery, a celebratory feast was prepared in Arthur's honor. This was just a small dinner compared to the grand feast on the queen's official coronation where the Spades nobility and royals from all four suit kingdoms were to attend. Arthur requested meat-- extra bloody. And red wine, the finest from Alfred's personal collection (that Alfred didn't know about until the servant was pouring their glasses). Arthur ate like real royalty. Not a speck of etiquette was out of place, somewhat curious for a merchant, but no one was complaining. Arthur daubed the cloth napkin to the corner of his mouth and reached for the wine as he said, "I do hope, Your Highness, to live up to every expectation you hold to me."

“I hope that as well, least the consequences be dire if you cannot.” It was not common practice to dethrone one’s queen and yet Alfred thought the idea sounded very appealing at this point. The devil acted as though he had been bred and raised just to fulfill the open position as queen, a position Alfred would have happily left empty his entire rule.

"Is that a promise?" Arthur's voice dipped low to a whisper. His hand reached underneath the table and squeezed Alfred's leg, right above the knee. "You're making me impatient; I don't want to wait for our wedding night." He snatched his hand back before Alfred could smack it away. The devil delicately set his chin upon the back of his laced fingers, regarding the king with a smile. He was enjoying this immensely. Alfred was too easy.

Alfred stood up quickly the chair legs scraping against the floor loudly. “Goodnight my Queen. I hope you’re dreams lead you to forging a brilliant battle plan for the coming battles. Lest it be your head on the silver platter served to the Clubs.” He bit out as he glared at the demon once more before heading back to his private chambers his cape flowing behind him. 

What a sexually repressed man-- who wears a /cape?/ Arthur speared his fork in his dinner and chewed morosely, bored now that his dancing jester has retired to his crib. "Virgin," he quipped after him. He finished his dinner and retired to his apartments. The queen's wing was not far from the king's, and there was a secret corridor linking the royals' bedchambers together for more clandestine meetings. Arthur lay in his bed, topping off the day with a nightcap after a long day of being waited on hand and foot. He was humming a tune, feeling refreshed from a bath and donned in a luxurious royal blue nightgown. The hour was neigh, and Alfred hadn't visited him yet. It looked like Arthur had to be the mature one. Finishing off the scotch, Arthur slipped down the hidden corridor and, after listening in to make sure Alfred wasn't preoccupied (he highly doubted it. He was just being polite), the devil knocked politely.

Alfred sat at the table he had the servants place in his bedchambers so that he may do work in peace as no one in their right mind would enter the King’s private room without his expressed permission. Which is why, when Alfred heard a knock at the door, he did not even have to know which door it was coming from to know who was knocking. “What do you want?” He spat out bitterly not bothering to invite the demon in knowing he would most likely come in anyways. When the door opened it revealed Alfred still dressed in the clothing he had just dined in with a few minor adjustments, that being he no longer wore his cape and he had put on reading glasses so he could go over the mountains of paperwork that appeared to never stop coming in.

The lacquered panel shifted; a passageway disguised as part of the woodwork revealed, and Arthur slid it shut behind him. "Working way passed your bedtime. You're so dedicated to your people and your kingdom." Arthur kicked off the door and sauntered inside, taking in an eye full of the decor. "Very nice. Maybe I should have asked to switch rooms with you." The devil leaned on the table in front of half of Alfred's paperwork, effectively halting the king's progress. He was still in his human form, the wings and tail being impractical with his new wardrobe. "Your queen is lonely."

“Well isn’t that a shame. Why don’t you woo one of the servant girls? I’m sure they would happily spend a night with you.” Alfred looked up glaring at the demon for halting him in the middle of his work. “As you can see I’m too busy to deal with you, so unless you are here to tell me the weapon is ready then leave.” 

Alfred stood up doubting the demon would listen to his demands. Deciding he might as well use the distraction in a beneficial way, the king headed over to his wardrobe removing his heavy coat leaving him in a much more comfortable undershirt hanging the coat on one of the many hooks on the side of the wardrobe. Alfred sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The national debt was only growing steadily worse and the war was the root cause of it. The farmers were going angry and frustrated at the draught that the farmlands had been experiencing for the past six months. The city dwellers were growing more and more poor finding it hard to come across their next meal. Alfred was doing what he could to help by opening his kitchens for those in need and providing them at least a meager meal. He felt bad about the splurge of food the castle had made just for his new “queen’s” arrival so he had the staff give any unused food to the poor. Things were going to hell and Alfred needed that weapon if anything was to be done about it.

"I could." Arthur could easily read into the minds of the weaker willed, and my what Alfred had been missing out on. Many servant girls (and men) lusted after the king, and not just for power. Arthur had a few admirers as well, and after dinner had a little "dessert" with the maid. Arthur was by /far/ under dressed, in fact it would be considered scandalous by polite standards. The devil watched Alfred's back as he undressed. If his tail was out it would be flicking against the floor. "Do you know what your subjects think of you?"

“I know enough.” Alfred muttered wearily as he sat down on the edge of his velvety bed covers unlacing his boots. Most nobility would find this strange and prefer to have a servant dress and undress them, but Alfred had never quiet understood why the upper class of society was so pampered, if a servant could undress themselves than he could manage the same. Alfred could feel the heat of the demon’s gaze on his back he chose to ignore it in hopes that the demon would soon get bored and wonder off to find a new distraction.

The devil crawled after him, looming over him on all fours with a spark in his eyes. "Duke Mordred of Avalon thinks you're as blind as a newborn pup for thinking you can ignore the nobility, who provide you with soldiers, for favor of your peasants." He brushed a lock of fringe that was poking Alfred's eye. "Lord Uthur mocks your war policies at every dinner table. Lady Viviane gossips about your suspicious bachelorhood." He smiled sweetly. "May I go on?"

Alfred grimaced, he knew he was unpopular with his nobles he always had been since childhood. His parents even found him strange for not simply accepting things as they were and enjoying the life he was born into. He would never act against them as his already weary army could barely stand as is even with the other noble’s soldiers adding to the cause. Alfred sighed and hunched over covering his eyes with his hands, “Does it really matter what I say? If you desire to continue you will do so with or without my permission.”

Arthur propped his cheek in his hand and crossed his ankles in the air, staring boorishly at the man. "All of that will be taken care of, Alfred," he assured. It was the first time he used Alfred's given name. The devil slipped unnoticed behind Alfred and began kneading his shoulders. He massaged his shoulder blades, right where wings would protrude had he been of Arthur's kind. "What would you say your weapon was very near, right at your fingertips?"

“Give it to me.” Alfred replied, moaning softly as Arthur loosened up the knots in his shoulders. Alfred would get on all fours and beg if it meant he could bring peace to his kingdom that much quicker, but he wasn’t about to tell the devil, who was now to be wed as his queen, that.

"Do not speak to me as if I were your servant." His voice held none of the bite behind his words. The devil continued thumbing and kneading his stiff and sore muscles-- all from stress, for he hadn't battled recently enough to sustain any short-term, lingering pains. "Take off your shirt; I want to get to your back."

Ignoring the devil’s words and following his command, Alfred removed his hands from his face just long enough to pull his shirt over his head. Who was he to turn down a relaxing massage, especially when it helped him alleviate his stress if only for a few moments. Once his shirt was off Alfred's back revealed a long scar and many other smaller scars that appeared to have come from battle. If one was looking at Alfred's chest they would have seen many of the same injuries there as well as many stab wounds due to past assassination attempts.

His fingertips trickled down his back, ticking off the scars in its wake. A melodic hum filtered the air as Arthur went to work on Alfred's lower back. "So handsome. Muscular. Your skin is smooth, and your face fringes on androgynous. But indeed, you are at the peak of masculinity, King Alfred," he cooed in his ear. He made sure only to toe the line of Alfred's threshold. He wanted to play longer.

Alfred smiled lightly at the demon’s words, “I learned a long time ago, demon, that pretty words are just that, pretty. If you want to screw with my mind do try something more original.” The king sighed in contentment enjoying the new freedom his back felt now released of its constricting knots. 

"I'm offended Your Highness would think my words of affection are anything but," Arthur bit Alfred's earlobe and slid it through his teeth. His hands roamed Alfred's back up to his triceps and loosened those muscles. 

Unwilling to let go of his pleasure the King quietly admitted, “I need to get back to work I have countless forms to fill out, hundreds of letters to the families of the deceased to sign, and your damn coronation to plan for.”

He pressed his chest flush against Alfred's, smelling his skin and his hair. "Don't tell me what your gift for me is. I want it to be a surprise."

Alfred hummed, “Wasn’t the crown enough? Now I have to actually get you something? Such a greedy demon.” Alfred smirked feeling strange for enjoying the warmth and touch of a demon against his skin. “How about an exchange? You tell me what you did with the real Queen of Spades and I’ll get you a grand present.” 

"Don't fret; she is unharmed," he assured with hot breath against his ear. He blew on the shell of Alfred's ear and flicked the tragus with his tongue. Arthur finished Alfred's pectorals and moved on to his stomach and groin. He waited for Alfred to adapt to his hands before kissing his neck very gently.

Alfred groaned at the sensation of Arthur's hands on his body, Arthur's lips against his neck, Arthur's sweet voice in his ear. “And what is a demon’s idea of unharmed?” Alfred asked trying to distract both himself and the demon.

"You are so sweet," he moaned, drawing long sucks on the junction of Alfred's neck and shoulder. He was careful not to mark Alfred so soon. He staved off the desire to bite him and draw blood; it was so tempting, as he could see the vein on Alfred's neck pulse faster as he carried on with his game. He latched his mouth onto it, sucking hard and pressing his tongue against the vein. "Stop talking, idiot." He grabbed Alfred's chin and kissed him hard.

Alfred moaned into the kiss his mouth opening allowing the demon entrance. A small voice in the back of Alfred's head told him he shouldn’t be doing this there was so much work to be done. If Alfred was able to think straight he would be alarmed that his issue with doing this was paperwork not the fact that Arthur was a demon and a man no less, though gender never did play much a role in the monarchy. Alfred pushed Arthur away when he began to feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen to his lungs. He panted trying to regain his breath, while fighting the desire to let Arthur kiss him senseless.

While Alfred was disarmed, Arthur gently rolled him onto his back. He swung his leg around and saddled his midsection, and before Alfred could object the devil swooped in and claimed his lips once more. He was talented with his lips and tongue, reading into Alfred's cues and knowing when best to suck on his lips or friction their tongues together. It was obvious that Alfred wasn't into the habit of lovemaking, so it made Arthur's job all the more easy.

Alfred mewled pathetically, he couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to feel pleasure this way. For the past few years the war had taken up so much time and so much of his attention that he forgot to take much care of himself and his needs. The quickly growing need in his trousers was beginning to demand attention causing Alfred to buck his hips when Arthur's had barely brushed his.

The velvet bed, dyed in the Spades' royal sapphire, reflected the king's darkened eyes. The devil reveled in the sight of the king sprawled out on the bed, helpless to his own desire. He made sure the king caught his smirk before drawing back and stripping him of his remaining garments, leaving him naked in the cool air. Alfred lay bare before the devil who leered down at him on all fours. He squeezed Alfred's cock, and the pressure from his grip was barely rough enough to cause discomfort.

Alfred gasped and covered his face trying to hide his reddening cheeks. Honestly he was acting like a girl and he wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was the way Arthur seemed to devour him simply by just looking at him. The pressure Arthur exerted on his cock caused a moan to erupt from Alfred's lips. Alfred quickly covered his mouth showing off his red cheeks, he squirmed underneath Arthur utterly embarrassed for acting in such a perverse manner.

His eyebrow quirked. Very interesting. "Don't worry, Your Highness; I will take care of you." His words shaped around a wicked smirk. His fist worked his cock up and down from the tip to the root by reaction to Alfred's simpering and moaning. He tugged the foreskin over the head with his thumb and used the pre-cum to glide his hand over the shaft. "Heh. How does that feel?" He batted Alfred's hands away; glowering over Alfred's pleasure was half the fun. 

He spread Alfred’s legs obscenely wide and nudged in closer. Arthur procured a vial from somewhere and was already dribbling lube onto his fingers. To distract Alfred from the invasion he played on Alfred's favorite places he already picked up on.

Alfred's eyes widened in alarm as the first finger pushed inside him his face contorting with discomfort. “Ah- no.” He wiggled a bit trying to ease the slight ache he felt. “It feels weird. Take it out. Ah!” Alfred panted lightly as Arthur added another finger, slowly beginning to move them in and out in a scissoring fashion. “Stop. Ah!” Alfred arched his back as Arthur brushed against a bundle of nerves that sent a wave of pleasure throughout Alfred’s body.

"You say no, but..." he trailed off, licking his red lips. His glowing eyes flashed over the perfect specimen of man wriggling underneath him. Alfred's half-hearted struggles ended when Arthur snatched his thigh in a vice-like grip. He continued to exploit Alfred's prostate, forcing out cries of pleasure and pain at his fancy. Seducing male virgins was an art. One had to be careful preparing a man without tipping him off knife's edge of pleasure-pain and ruining the mood. Alfred was being a very good boy. 

Arthur stopped at three fingers; Alfred would enjoy the remaining stretch. Like a dream-- an illusion--Arthur was as naked as he and clamoring over his body. A flash of red hair disappeared as soon as it appeared before Arthur leaned forward and entered Alfred. He was surprisingly gentle, taking his time sliding to the root. He took a moment to shut his eyes and enjoy the moan of Alfred's first time being penetrated. "Lovely," Arthur breathed, caressing his fingers over Alfred’s face before hiking the king’s knees up.

The new sensation of being filled was painful, Alfred bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out. Tears formed in the corners of the king’s eyes as he tried to relax himself, but before he could manage to do so his legs were pulled up and Arthur began lightly thrusting into him. “Ow! Ow stop it hurts.” Alfred begged, he tightly gripped the bed covers trying to pull himself away from Arthur.

Arthur muttered something under his breath and picked up the pace. He arched Alfred's back like a bow as he sat upright and continued thrusting. The thumbs digging into Alfred's hipbones were agonizing. Bruises imprinted on his skin like petals of Spade's national rose. Having been on the receiving end countless times on their bonding, it was exciting to see Alfred reduced to the same sticky mess Alfred put him through time and again. The stretch of his skin over his ribs and the stomach muscles rippling as he tensed up mesmerized him. But what captivated him most of all was Alfred's face twisted in pain and pleasure and everything in between. "Don't lie to yourself. It only makes it worse in the end, when I make you scream and you can't do anything about coming all over yourself." A dark chuckle that spread into a growl punctuated his point.

Alfred was a moaning, panting mess. It hurt but the pain had peaks of pleasure that made the king see stars dancing in front of his eyes. Heat began to build up in his stomach, and moans soon turned to screams of pleasure as he began to beg Arthur for release. He reached up and pulled the demon close to him, digging his nails into the other’s back. “A- Arthur! I can’t ah- AH!”

Laughter bubbled up in Arthur's chest, tickling the back of his ribs. Oh, how the tables have turned. Alfred's nails biting into his back left burning red marks that raised on his skin. Arthur sighed in bliss. As Arthur leaned up on his hands again, Alfred saw that he changed. Gone was the blonde hair and crisp green eyes that belonged to the queen of Spades. Arthur's hair was as dark as blood, and his eyes absinthe. Two wings pridefully spanned the entire length of the bed and enveloped all of Alfred's vision. With his true form released, Arthur thrust into Alfred's body with utter abandon and the single-most intent on pulling the wool over Alfred's eyes of how shameful and pitiful he's become to whore himself out for power.

Arthur's change was like a bucket of cold water to the face. Alfred should have been disgusted, he should fight his way away from the creature before him, and yet he couldn’t stop him. No, he didn’t want to stop him. Alfred wanted Arthur there with him holding him and he couldn’t explain why. In that moment the only thing he desired to do was drag Arthur down and kiss him, and he did exactly that.

Arthur's eyes pulsed wide as he was dragged down into the kiss. A smile shaped against Alfred's mouth, followed by a growl reverberating between them. He snatched a fistful of golden hair and cruelly yanked Alfred's head back. The pulse on his neck drove Arthur wild and he bit into it without a second thought. Coppery blood flooded his mouth, and he drank like he was on the brink of death. After a hundred years, the euphoria of finally tasting Alfred's ethereal life force was enough to make a creature such as Arthur black out. As it were, Arthur spasmed and released into Alfred's human form with a soul-wrenching moan.

Once Arthur had bitten into Alfred’s neck all pleasure was lost, replaced by the excruciating pain of the demon's bite. As Arthur drank, Alfred's body began to feel numb and lightheaded. He was so dizzy he didn’t ever register that Arthur had pulled out. 

A flash of pain shot threw Alfred's head, he weakly lifted his hand to try and stop the sudden pounding. For a brief moment Alfred's hair turned pitch black and stayed that way long enough for him to murmur out, “I’m sorry I failed you, Artie.” Before he passed out and his hair reverted back to its wheat blonde color.

Arthur suckled out the last drop before Alfred's wound healed on its own. Flawless skin denied any evidence of their carnal deviancy. Arthur's muzzle was wet and dripping as he used the back of his hand to lick off the rest of his meal. If Alfred didn't deny his natural, he wouldn't have passed out like the wimpy human that he was. They usually drew from each other's essence at the same time. Arthur thought his Alfred returned, but it could have been an instinctive reaction to being so close to death. "Pathetic," Arthur sneered. 

The blood left his muscles fluid and loose, much like Alfred's back massage. Nothing, not even sex, was as satisfying as taking his fill of Alfred. He lay beside Alfred and watched him sleep. The way Alfred's golden hair splayed across the mattress made him look so... angelic. It disturbed him. He wished he could do more to Alfred than harmless mind games, but he had a duty to fulfill. After his task, his station as dark angel will be restored. 

Decades upon decades Arthur was punished on behalf of Alfred's misdeeds. His sanity was maintained only by thoughts of revenge. The pain he endured was unimaginable, and Arthur only agreed to help Alfred for the fear of returning to that nightmare. Alfred never came back for him, but instead chose a life in blissful ignorance. He abandoned Arthur, leaving him a shell of his former self. "I'll never forgive you," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So what do you guys think so far? Way different from the stuff I generally write I know, but recently I’ve sorta expanded my writing horizons. Hopefully you guys enjoy this story as much as I did while rping it. As always rates and reviews are much appreciated. Next chapter should be up soonish, just have to finish editing it.


	3. Chapter 3

When Alfred awoke the next day, it was late in the morning and his body strangely didn’t hurt at all. If it wasn’t for his nakedness and the feeling of dried cum on him, he would have believed it all to be a strange dream. He yawned and stretched his arms before getting up to get his bathing robe on as his body was still quite sticky. Once clothed in the silk robe Alfred leaned out of his bedroom door and called for a servant to bring up water for his bath.

While waiting for the water to be prepared Alfred decided to finish a bit more of the paper work that had been piling up. As he was reading over the papers he felt a headache start to come on, less painful than the one he fell asleep to but still quiet agonizing. He placed his elbows down on the desk before him hunching over covering his eyes with his hands trying to prevent the pain from escalating. When he heard a quiet knock on his door he felt angry, inexplicably angry, how dare someone try to interrupt him. “WHAT!” He yelled at the door.

The servant girl at the door jumped in shock at the King’s tone. “Many apologies your highness, but your bath is now ready.”

“Took you long enough. Are you all this god damn useless.” He snapped at the servant girl causing her to quickly flee the room muttering many apologies behind her. Alfred slowly stood still holding his head with one of his hands, as he reached the doorway his world began to spin for a moment causing him to brace himself against the doorframe. 

When his world stabled, Alfred began to make his way to his bathing room. His head still throbbed and at times he tripped over nothing because of the pulsing pain. A vision flashed before his eyes:

“Alfred, what are you up to this time?” A demon with a similar appearance to Arthur, only much calmer and happier looking, asked.

“Revolution, Art. I’m going to change things for the better.” The vision’s Alfred replied.

“What the hell?” Alfred wondered where that vision came from, the other man in it looked like Arthur, but he had only just met him. The vision made no sense thus Alfred passed it off as a delusion brought on by his head ache. Alfred made it to the bathing room with little problems after that his headache already slowly fading. Once Alfred had finished bathing and dressing himself, he made his way down to the dining hall for a late breakfast.

Breakfast awaited Alfred downstairs. Eggs, bacon, baked beans, black pudding-- all of the usual dishes that complimented a healthy start to the day. It was only laid out for one seat; presumably, Arthur couldn't be bothered to wait and dined alone. However, a small note on the clean plate let Alfred know he wasn't missed. In the note was Arthur's usual sarcastic sweetness. He thanked Alfred for last night and requested to meet him in the private gardens by the fountains when he was through with eating. The note ended:

Your devoted queen and loving husband,  
Arthur xx

Alfred sighed and mentally rearranged his schedule to fit the request of his spirited queen as he nibbled on his breakfast. He replayed the previous night in his mind and again questioned why it didn’t bother him. Why it just felt, right. As he did so the strange idea that Alfred was forgetting something popped up in his head, but he wasn’t quite sure what he could be forgetting. Alfred soon finished his breakfast and started to head towards the private gardens. He let his mind wonder over any and all thoughts trying to remember what he had forgotten but he soon gave up as his headache seemed to come back and grow worse the hard he tried to remember. A brief thought made him wonder if his vision this morning had anything to do with it, before he could let the thought fully develop he had arrived at the gardens and saw Arthur sitting down at a table set up by the fountain drinking what Alfred assumed to be tea.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Arthur leaned on his crossed arms with a sweet smile. Their afternoon date was a relaxing daze in the gardens with tea set for two; Arthur rose and gestured his king to sit. He sat after him. The herbal blend of Earl Grey tickled his nose as he poured the tea himself. "So good of you to take time out of your schedule to visit your lonely betrothed." He winked behind his fringe. Their transgressions of last night were not forgotten by either of them.

Alfred hummed in response rubbing his temple with one hand and taking a sip of tea with the other. “‘Tis nothing but my greatest desire to see you happy.” He muttered a tad sarcastically before setting his cup down and staring at the fountain. Alfred again let his mind brush over the vision of this morning. He rubbed his temple again before asking, “Arthur… Have we met before? I mean before all this: the contract, you here. I don’t know why but I have this strange feeling that I’ve known you for a long time and…” Alfred shook his head, “Forget it its probably just stress that’s making strange thoughts appear in my head.”

“‘Tis nothing but my greatest desire to see you happy.”

Arthur's obnoxious smile slowly melted from his face. The expression he gave Alfred was made of stone-- unyielding and unforgiving. "Indeed," he agreed. But to what was beyond Alfred's knowledge.

His eyes turned inward as the king continued talking. That was what Alfred, the real Alfred, said to him countless times before. Just like Alfred to surface painful memories while he remained ignorant to the consequences Arthur faced in the fallout. It was just like before when Alfred was given a new life and Arthur was left to rot in sin. His eyes flicked to Alfred. "Yes, there certainly is something wrong with your head."

“Yes, perhaps it has something to do with this headache that doesn’t want to go away.” Alfred lifted his tea cup to take another sip only to set it down just as quickly spilling much of the tea onto the table. His head began to pulse in pain again and Alfred began to breathe heavier trying to will away the pain with breaths. 

“You idiot! Do you really think a plan like that will work? You’ll just get yourself killed!” The demon that looked similar to Arthur yelled at him.

“Well what do you want me to do sit back and accept this tyranny?! I refuse to sit back and watch our so called king control every aspect of our lives! I have a right to be my own person! I have a right to question orders that I don’t agree with and I will damn well fight for that right!” 

That was his voice Alfred's, again. What was the vision about? What were the two yelling about? Alfred didn’t remember anything like that happening before. His head pulsed again feeling as though it was to split in two.

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should do! Because Alfred if you fail this you’re not the only one who will suffer!” Emerald eyes glared fiercely at him.

And as suddenly as it came on his headache and the vision disappeared, leaving behind an even more confused Alfred. Alfred looked up at Arthur, his eyes asking the questions that his mouth couldn’t seem to form. “Plan? What plan?”

Arthur took a dainty sip of his tea. Over the gold rim, eyes as cold as death seized Alfred's heart. "The plan that nearly ripped Hades asunder and a third of our kind to burnt to ash," he answered slowly. He sipped again before delicately lowering the cup to the tea tray. "Not that it matters to you, but you got let off easy compared to we 'accessories after the fact'."

Arthur turned to the servants. "Leave." Sensing the mood, they hurriedly left the couple

“What are you talking about?” Alfred asked slowly, confused as to what Arthur meant. “Our kind? I’m just a human. I don’t understand. What do you mean?” What the hell was Arthur talking about? A plan the nearly destroyed Hades? Even if that were so, what does any of that have to do with Alfred? Alfred was just a human, just a simple human king who wanted what was best for his people, who wanted the war to end, who wanted peace. Wasn’t he?

Arthur snorted, stirring sugar in his tea. For all of Arthur's poise, it was becoming increasingly apparent that this veneer of nonchalance was shattering as the conversation deepened. "Don't be daft. You have been having flashbacks, haven't you? I thought our soiree would refresh your memory. As I figured; you only think with your prick."

“Those were brought on by stress. They didn’t really happen. I’m just stressed.” Alfred tried to reassure himself as another flash of pain shot through his head.

“Damn it! It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this!” Alfred's voiced cried out. “You promised to only get rid of the king! Not kill so many of us!”

“Did you really think we would make such a promise with a demon?” The man asked, he had pure white feather wings on his back and his face held a look of scorn that was on par with a demon’s glare.

“Not all of us are as evil as you make us out-” Alfred tried to argue back, but was cut short as the angel grabbed him by his hair and shoved him in front of the nearby window using just the smallist bit of magic he turned it into a mirror that reflected a man who looked so very similar to Alfred. His eyes glowed blue, his hair black as night, a pair of horns place on the sides of his head, and leathery black wings that protruded from his back; it was Alfred and yet it wasn’t it couldn’t be no matter how similar their faces were.

“Does this look pure and natural to you?” The angel demanded out.”This is the work of evil and sin, no matter what you do your nature will never change, beast.” A horn sounded out in the distance causing the angel to let go of the Alfred look-alike. “Luckily for you that was the retreat signal, but fear not. I have personally ensured any angel that is left behind or captured is to tell everyone your name so that you may be punished for your betrayal.” And with that the angel fled.

Alfred gasped his eyes going wide, he looked at Arthur startled and stood up quickly wanting to get away from both Arthur and the pain the visions caused him. He backed away from Arthur fear evident in his eyes that couldn’t have been him there was no way. He bumped into the fountain as he tried to get away turning to see what he hit, Alfred caught the image of his reflection in the water. His hair was pitch black his eyes seemed to glow an unnatural shade of blue. “No. No it’s not possible. I’m just a human!” He cried out in alarm and pulled at his hair trying to rid himself of the dark color.

Arthur eyed him levelly. He remained at his seat across from the empty one Alfred vacated. "Isn't denial fascinating? Don't consider this a failure, darling-- you kept it up /so well/." He draped an arm over the back of his seat and continued on lazily, "Why don't you come back to tea so we can discuss this like grown demons?" His pearly whites flashed in a smile.

Alfred didn’t move for a few moments unable to process the gentle command. His mind was still going a mile a minute and the thoughts and questions spinning around needed answering, who better to answer his questions than a demon itself. Alfred slowly made his way back to his seat acting very jumpy at even the slightest noises fearing one of his servants would come across the two. Once Alfred sat down he silently stared at his hands glancing over to Arthur once or twice to make sure the other was still there.

Arthur poured Alfred another cup. What had to be the most disturbing was the normalcy of it all. Chittering over a pot of tea about the war between Heaven and Hell. Arthur finished and refreshed his cup before he continued. "You designed a coup to overthrow our Master. A legion of angels with their own agenda allied with you, but they ultimately betrayed you in the end. The demons I mentioned died valiantly protecting the Master." Arthur watched Alfred hawkishly. "After your devastating --and humiliating, might I add-- loss, because after everything, you were still favored by our Lord, He gave you a second chance to redeem yourself. He dumped you in the mortal realm to reclaim your true nature." Arthur frown unhappily, unspoken disagreement clear across his face. He almost went on about Alfred's punishment that extended onto him, but decided he'd rather not witness Alfred's indifference to Arthur's own pain and suffering.

Alfred slowly let the information sink in, still finding it hard to grasp the idea that he may very well be a demon in human guise without even realizing it himself. “If what you say is true, then why did he let me live? In any country that alone is enough to warrant a death sentence, regardless of favoritism. Why should hell be different?”

"Firstly," he began delicately, "leveling human law with canon law is moot." He tipped a drop of tea into the cup and set his spoon aside. "And secondly, you were simply His favorite. To the Master, there's no other good reason besides that. You were... the loveable idiot sort. I suppose." He frowned unhappily. Arthur had countless memories that would contest to that title. 

"You need to stop comparing transient, human law, to canonical law, which is set in stone." He shrugged. "You're over-thinking it. For once," he tacked on in a humorless mutter.

“It still makes no sense but I’ll accept it as is for now.” Alfred concluded while holding some of his hair so he could reexamine the color. He stopped and looked at Arthur he seemed angry as to why Alfred didn’t know, but he wanted to find out. “Who are you? Really. Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?”

"Because you /have/ known me forever," he deadpanned. Really, he could strangle the boy right now if he didn't have to honor that damn contract. At this point in time, Arthur just wanted to change Alfred back and get it all over with, but it wasn't up to him. Alfred had to change on his own. "So what are you going to do?"

“Realistically or ideally? Because ideally I’d like to wake up from this dream right now and move on with my life, but realistically I need to take care of this war before I can even think about dealing with the aftermath I caused from another. Though if you would just give me the weapon we made a deal on then I could handle the second situation a lot quicker.” Alfred sighed, this was so much to take in within such a short amount of time. “Also how the hell do you change the color of your hair? People will begin to panic if they see me with black hair and glowing eyes.”

"You can do anything if you believe." Arthur cast him a winning smile. "You wish to win the war in Cards and make peace with your past. Why not both?" With frightening violence Arthur suddenly swept the tea set clear off the table. The priceless china set gifted by the Jack of Spades shattered to pieces. Arthur crawled over the table like an animal and crushed their lips together. He clamored onto the "king's" lap and squeezed his hips between Alfred’s knees.

Alfred paused for a moment slightly shocked at Arthur's behavior before some sort of animalistic instinct took over him, Alfred greedily began to kiss Arthur back quickly taking control of the kiss. He moved his hands so that he could hold Arthur better; one made its way into Arthur’s hair to hold his head in place, the other moved down to his low back Alfred’s fingers dipping just below the edge of Arthur's pants. As the two broke for air Alfred quickly reattached himself to Arthur's neck nipping and sucking as he went, all self-control had flown out the window from the moment Arthur's lips had touched his.

Goosebumps raised on his pale skin as Alfred forced the rest of the kiss. He clawed at Alfred when the king teased him, practically mewling like cat for how wanton and shameless he sounded. As Alfred took back his primal nature, Arthur unthinkingly fell back into his role as Alfred's bed partner despite himself. "Yes. /Yes/," Arthur bleated as Alfred marked his neck with teeth and tongue. As Alfred raised his head again, Arthur was back in his true form, horns and all. He snapped the waistband of Alfred's trousers and yanked Alfred's hair back to devour his lips.

Alfred groaned into the kiss enjoying the sensation of Arthur on his lips again he moved his hands so that one hand groping Arthur's ass while the other massaging the base of the redhead’s tail. In the back of his mind memories of Arthur flittered through from the first time Arthur tried to cook for him to the last fight they had before they were separated and everything in between. “I’ve missed this,” Alfred growled against Arthur's lips.

His mouth softened into an "o" shape. Alfred was using the same tricks on him he used to love, especially with his tail. He was incredibly sensitive at the base, and Alfred's teasing made it curl and lash out erratically. He snatched the hand on his ass and molded it to his erection. He thrust against Alfred's hand before stripping Alfred of his shirt. "Show me your wings. I want to see them."

“I don’t know about that. You have been pretty mean to me. What makes you think you deserve to see them?” Alfred questioned as he lightly ran a finger against Arthur's clothed erection. Alfred gently bit down on Arthur's shoulder just enough to slightly draw blood which he licked away before the wounds quickly healed.

Arthur chuckled low in this throat. "Oh, darling, that's just a drop in the bucket compared to what you did to me. Hmm..." he hummed, ghosting Alfred's shoulder blades with his nails, tickling like a spider's web. "Imagine strips of your skin being peeled clean off, and then salt rubbed into your exposed muscles. Or your bones smashed to bits so they feel like gravel in your limp body." He played with Alfred's ebony hair. "I hardly think that's comparable to a little orgasm denial."

Alfred stopped and looked at Arthur confusion shown clearly on his face. “What are you talking about? I never-” And then it hit him, of course hell wouldn’t let him off so easy. What better way to punish someone than by taking what’s most precious to them and breaking it to bits. “Arthur I-” Alfred pulled the red-head close burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “I never meant for anything to happen to you. I know nothing I say can atone for what happened to you, but I am so sorry.”

"Should have thought of that before you rebelled against Him." Behind Alfred's shoulder, Arthur sighed in surrender. He brought his arms around in a loose hold around Alfred's shoulders. He was so convinced of his undying hatred toward Alfred that he hadn't even promised himself he wouldn't give in. And now look at him; held in Alfred's arm like a child and feeling nowhere more at home than inside Alfred's embrace. Pathetic. "Pathetic," he mumbled, but nuzzled his face into Alfred's cheek.

Alfred squeezed Arthur closer before he granted the red-head’s wish allowing his true self to reveal. He stretched his leathery wings lightly audible pops were heard as they were sore from so many years of disuse, his tail slowly waved back and forth, and his horns appeared on his head. Lightly Alfred brushed his lips along Arthur's collarbone silently asking for the forgiveness he knew he would never deserve.

Arthur lighted his fingers on Alfred's wings. Alfred's wings were weak and couldn't carry his weight, and as the sun shone through the bat-like membrane Arthur could see the network of arteries pumping blood through the appendages. Alfred's tail fared better; after some coaxing it wrapped around his wrist and tugged playfully. He looked at Alfred and smirked. He didn't say it in so many words, but with time, he could recover from the loneliness and abandonment Alfred left behind when he had forsaken his nature. Arthur swiped Alfred's ridiculous glasses and tossed them carelessly over his shoulder. "That's better," he cooed, scooting farther into Alfred's lap and kissing him again.

Alfred gently returned the kiss, before it slowly turned into something much more heated. Tongues danced together, Alfred teased the base of Arthur's tail again and palmed the other’s semi-hard erection. “How about we take this back to my room?” Alfred asked in a husky voice lightly teasing Arthur before moving him so he could be carried bridal style decidedly ignoring any and all protests. “I wouldn’t want all the servants blushing from just the sound of you voice. Oh yes, you may want to appear human for a few minutes longer.” And with that Alfred once again had dark blue eyes and wheat blonde hair his demonic features fading away leaving him looking simply human.

"As if you were any better." He gave one last parting nip on the ear before reverting back to his human guise. He held great poise for one being carried like a wife under no uncertain circumstances other than to be shagged by his husband. Technically, they weren't even married by human standards. "I'm holding you to very high standards; I expect the best shag of my life. My first condition for forgiving you." Of course, he was teasing. But he wouldn't mind a phenomenal lay after an unspeakable number of years without any tail.

“Oh is it now? Then I guess I’ll have to pull out all the stops until you’re panting and begging me for more.” Alfred smirked as he ascended the staircase, quickly telling a maid in passing that they were not to be interrupted under any circumstance. Once he made it to his private chambers, Alfred locked the door and like Arthur rid himself of his human guise. He near ran to the bed and plopped Arthur down kissing him deeply planning to thoroughly enjoy himself and ensure he made up all those lonely years to Arthur.

Alfred ripped open Arthur's shirt buttons flying everywhere and began to attack his chest with bites and open mouth kisses. Every so often he would brush his hand against Arthur's still clothed erection in a teasing fashion brushing the base of Arthur's tail every time.

Arthur writhed like he could barely stand the pleasure Alfred evoked in him. His back arched and rolled sensuously for more kisses and bites and everything in between. Marks that would have caused one pain only sharpened the pleasure Alfred was giving him elsewhere-- mainly his tail and sometimes his erection. Although he was a creature of prey, Arthur enjoyed submitting to Alfred's care and subjugating himself to whatever fancies took Alfred that night. No matter how far they went he felt safe with Alfred. 

Alfred was stroking his tail in the most enjoyable fashion. It was suggestively like frictioning a cock, which drove Arthur mad because that was the one place Alfred /wasn't/ satisfying him. "Alfred, oh. Alfred, I want it." He grabbed Alfred's hand and laid it over his painful arousal.

Alfred smirked and left his hand right over the arousal but didn’t move it an inch. He continued assaulting Arthur's chest and leaving kiss marks everywhere he went. Only when Arthur started whining and bucking into Alfred’s hand did Alfred gently begin to rub the painfully hard cock, taking his hand away anytime Arthur began to moan. Alfred could see the frustration building on the red-head’s face, “I’m sorry am I doing something wrong?” He asked with an angelic smile. “It has been awhile perhaps you should remind me of what to do.”

"You little shit," he hissed, rolling his hips against Alfred's unresponsive hand. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and moaned. After all this time, just the weight of Alfred's hand made his vision waver in a miasma. "Fuck me," he growled, "fuck me like you mean it. Leave me screaming like the virgin you were last night." He knew reference to that would rile Alfred up.

Alfred hummed in amusement, “You’re lucky I didn’t have my memory back at that time.” Alfred slowly unbuttoned Arthur's pants careful to not touch the already painfully hard cock, he slowly slide down both Arthur's bottoms and his undergarments tossing them aside. Alfred then slid off Arthur's shoes and socks one by one thoroughly enjoying the glares Arthur was throwing him.

Once Arthur was naked, Alfred moved his way back up so that his head hovered over Arthur's erection hot breaths blowing across the tip. Deciding to be nice Alfred slowly began to pump Arthur's cock nuzzling the tip before placing it inside his mouth sucking and licking the tip enjoying the taste of Arthur's pre-cum on his tongue. Alfred began to bob his head up and down leaving Arthur panting and moaning demanding Alfred to hurry up, just as Arthur was about to reach his climax Alfred pulled away  
.  
"Ohh, Alfr—FUCK!" He nearly heel-kicked Alfred's shoulder for pulling away so fast. Arthur swore, knocking his head back on the mattress with a huff. His thighs were beginning to tremble when Alfred pulled away. Arthur's face puckered in a pout as Alfred gloated above him. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled the devil down with him. While their lips were occupied Arthur opened Alfred's pants and shoved them down his thighs. He wrapped his legs around Alfred and used his ankles to yank Alfred down full-bodied on top of him. He bit the other's earlobe and tugged.

Alfred chuckled at the action pleased with himself at the mess Arthur was becoming thanks to his guiding hand. He conjured up a small vial of lubricant and pulled the cap off with his teeth. After pouring an even amount over his fingers Alfred began to bite and suck on Arthur's nipples. He spread the red-head’s legs apart and traced the edges of Arthur's entrance with one of his slimy digits, waiting till Arthur began to grow frustrated again before pushing the first finger inside gently moving it in and out as he began to nip and suck the side of Arthur's neck leaving a dark bruise behind. 

Once satisfied with his work on Arthur's neck, Alfred decided to add a second finger pausing for a moment to let Arthur quickly adjust. Alfred began to slowly scissor his fingers while moving them in and out of Arthur. He brought his face up to kiss Arthur passionately controlling every aspect of the kiss leaving Arthur breathless, he grinned when Arthur gasped out as Alfred finally found his prostate. Alfred used the moment to add another finger stretching the entrance further. He had three fingers in at this point and didn’t plan on letting Arthur have anything more than that until he was begging for it. Again Alfred brushed up against the bundle of nerves letting a self satisfied smirk grace his face as Arthur moaned at the sensation.

Alfred's attention on his nipples was exhilarating. Alfred snapped him back and forth between pleasure and pain, and Arthur had no time to indulge in either of them before the devil was forcing him back into another state of bliss. He smiled like a Cheshire cat realizing Alfred was drawing out the same bruises along his neck he always did. Arthur showed him his appreciation by dragging his nails along Alfred's back; Arthur's own marks of ownership. Alfred exploited his prostate mercilessly, and his already wet head was dripping with precum. He gasped open-mouthed and groaned out obscene things while he attempted to thrust back and fuck himself on Alfred's fingers. He could have come from just that if Alfred hadn't snatched his fingers away at the last moment. Arthur just collapsed back on the bed and spread his legs wide for Alfred with a leering smile. He was still shivering from having almost climaxed when he groaned out, "Do it now, Alfred. Fuck me like you mean it."

Alfred placed one more kiss on Arthur's lips before he grinned and poured some lube on his erection which was aching from being ignored for so long. He took a moment to position himself before he mercilessly shoved himself inside Arthur groaning at the sudden warmth that surrounded him. Alfred didn’t begin to move further waiting for Arthur's signal before proceeding; as much as he loved to torment the red-head at his own pace he also like to make sure Arthur enjoyed it as much as he did.

Arthur's back arched off the bed as the pain of Alfred's entry zipped up his spine. He panted breathlessly for a few moments before lowering himself again. Their eyes met and Arthur nodded, tipping his chin and giving him the go. At the first thrust, Arthur's eyes widened and rolled back in his head. He snatched the sheets and wrangled them in his fingers, groaning loudly and without any concern for prying ears (in fact Arthur might have gotten off on it). He pushed his hips back into Alfred's thrusts, meeting him halfway. They built up a solid rhythm, and Arthur smiled cheekily as he stared up at Alfred moving inside of him.

Alfred caught sight of Arthur's smile and matched it with a grin of his own. How long had it been since they had been like this, the previous night notwithstanding? Decades? Far too long in Alfred's opinion, though neither one was given the chance to miss it until this moment. Alfred leaned down and sweetly kissed Arthur slowing down his rhythm a bit to draw out their pleasure. He used his slower rhythm to search for Arthur's prostate again to ensure Arthur felt as good as, if not better than, Alfred. When Arthur gasped out and tighten around Alfred, the black haired demon knew he had found it. Alfred began to aim for the spot over and over again speeding up to their previously set pace.

When Alfred hit his prostate Arthur hissed a long /yes/ and nipped Alfred's ear with his sharp teeth. As Alfred picked up the pace he laughed fed dirty words into Alfred's ear to rile him up. He jostled harder after each thrust and buried his face in Alfred's ebony hair. Arthur's pants were hot and damp, and he cried out on the crest of every exhale against the shell of his ear. Alfred hitting Arthur's prostate at every penetration, added to the devil's abdomen muscle rippling against the head of his cock was enough to send him over the edge. His orgasm sent him reeling and Arthur broke skin as he dragged his sharp nails down Alfred's back as he screamed. His whole body trembled, and he clutched Alfred grim death as it hit him in long waves.

The cuts on his back stung as they were made and the mixture of pain and pleasure was delightful to Alfred that he came soon after Arthur. Alfred extended the waves of pleasure that plowed through him by biting Arthur’s neck puncturing the sweet flesh with his fangs drawing forth the sweet nectar he craved for hidden just behind the other’s skin. As his climax came down he bit down harder on Arthur's neck drawing out more blood as he began to drink deeply from the Arthur’s throat, refreshing his parched throat and satisfying a long ignored thirst. His taste buds tingled and his gut grew warm with the enchanting taste of Arthur's blood, Alfred's eyes fluttered closed letting the blood memories flow into his mind. 

Not many demons could see into another being’s past with blood alone, subconsciously Alfred knew it had been the reason why He had not killed Alfred simply that ability enough made him worthy of forgiveness. As the memories flooded into Alfred, he began to grow angry. Images of Arthur being taken away to be punished for Alfred’s transgression, Arthur being brutally tortured, Arthur being given the chance to redeem himself by coming to the human’s world and assisting Alfred in regaining his more demonic nature. The images completely ruined his pleasant mood; Alfred stopped drinking from Arthur's neck and quickly licked away what blood was left on Arthur's neck. Alfred growled in annoyance, “That bastard.”

"What?" He unusually light-headed from Alfred drinking his essence, and the words came out muffled and round. He kissed his lips, chasing the taste of iron in his mouth. He wiggled and eased Alfred out of him. He stretched his warm muscles including his wings that spanned across the entire bed. "What is it?"

“He fucking knew this would happen. He planted you here to rile me up again. I swear, I’m gonna kill him.” Alfred bit out half answering Arthur's question. “He made up some bullshit excuse to do that to you just to get back at me. He knew you had nothing to do with it. He knew you told me not to and threatened to tell Him if I didn’t stop. And he still did that to you. I’m going to kill him.” Alfred was half ready to march down to hell and give the King a piece of his mind as well as a blade through his heart. His weak wings quivered in desire to do so, but had not the strength to act upon their master’s desire.

"Yes, he did plant me here," he drawled uninterestingly as he watched his lover work himself up. He propped his cheek on the heel of his hand. "It's a test of your loyalty, love. No matter what he did to you-- or me, you must understand that our master owns us entirely." Arthur was hardly surprised it didn't get through the devil's thick skull, but he was too sated to feel annoyed. "Simply put: if you don't swear fealty to Him again, I might as well go back to the Pit, because clearly you haven't learned your lesson.”

“Like hell I’ll let you touch him again. He’d lose his hand before it could even get near you.” Alfred growled out anger flaring even more at the very thought of Arthur going back to that. He had never been like the other demons that seemed to so willingly bow their heads and accept submission. No, Alfred instead liked to cause chaos and fight against the status quo. He certainly got into his fair share of trouble and was punished accordingly, but he never stopped no matter how sever the punishment. Most other demons found this idiotic, but the King generally seemed amused by his behavior, as if Alfred was just an ornery kitten that just didn’t know his place.

Arthur procured a cigarette from somewhere and lit it with a snap of his fingers. "So what are you going to do?" The smoke curled out around the words. Arthur obviously wasn't taking him seriously, lounging with his hands behind his head and staring up at the royal blue bed curtains.

“Hide you far away and start another rebellion.” Alfred suggested only half serious, he sighed calming down a bit from his flare of anger. His shoulders dropped in a defeated manner; the alliance with heaven that backfired on him was his best idea for taking Him down and now he had no idea where to go from here or if he even wanted to fight back better yet if he even had the strength to fight back. 

While thinking this through Alfred stretched his wings wincing as the muscles cramped up on him from so little movement. Alfred chuckled to himself realizing his wings were probably the reason his back was sore all the time, he rolled his shoulders a bit before reaching over and taking Arthur's cigarette from him. Alfred took a long drag from it and slowly exhaled; he bent forward holding the cigarette away from him and groaned in annoyance. Here he was no ideas, no means of creating of carrying out any sort of plan, and a strong desire for revenge. “Honestly I don’t know Art. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

"Here's my pet theory." He rolled onto his stomach and propped himself on his elbows. The devil was completely comfortable in his nudity. "The angels betrayed you because it's the order of things." He traced the vulnerable webbing of Alfred's wings that were still too weak to support his body. "Our master is like their master, and our world is a reflection of theirs; it keeps the balance. I hate to say this, but if the other man up there really wanted it, he could have dispatched Master simply on a whim. Your ideas of revolution are hardly new."

“I know that Arthur and honestly I deserve to be in hell, but even so no one deserves a complete tyrant ruling over them. Everyone deserves a voice in what happens to us all, not a king who decides for us. That’s what I want. That’s what I fight for. Is that really so much to ask?” Alfred let himself fall back so that he was laying on the bed, he took another long drag from the cigarette and sighed.

Arthur plucked his cigarette from his lips and finished the last draw. "Unfortunately, you won't find democracy in Hell. Or in Heaven, for that matter." He smiled around the smoke curling from his lips before blowing it playfully in his face. He crushed the butt carelessly against the bedpost. Arthur stretched again and flopped back down. "Why don't we enjoy our titles as king and queen? I have an amusing idea or two."

Alfred laughed softly, “I suppose being King is the closest I’ll get to my ideal kingdom. Well I suppose it couldn’t be that bad, at least my queen is hot.” He winked at Arthur and blew a kiss in his direction. “Besides you do come up with such fun ideas all the time. So do tell me, whatever do you have planned up your devious little sleeve, my queen?”

"We can start with your 'ultimate weapon' your human side so desperately traded his soul for." His smile curled crookedly reminding Alfred of his absolutely obliviousness just hours earlier. He was such a cute bottom. "Because demons can't make contract between ourselves as we can with humans, our official business is null and void. But I think ruining Clubs would still be fun. In fact, I wouldn't mind a full deck of cards, if you catch my drift."

Alfred learned over and kissed Arthur softly, “Hmm world domination. That sounds amusing.” Alfred wore a devilish grin on his face as he playfully brought his fingers up to his face and stroked his chin. “Shall we destroy the others bit by bit or do you think assassinations would be more fun?”

"Oh, it depends on presentation," he replied airily. "Destruction is in our nature, but I want to reap the rewards, as well." Arthur grinned and faced Alfred properly, propping himself up and resting his hand on the side of his head. "We can vacation in another castle every season. We'll enslave the royal counsels and have them do the work for us. Human willpower is pitiful; it only takes a bit of magic --or gold-- to brainwash them."

Alfred hummed and kissed Arthur again, the other’s excitement was adorable to him, especially when it involved such destruction and total conquest. “Ah yes, that does sound delightful. So the only question left, my dear queen, is where to start? Shall I take Clubs and you Diamonds, then come together to destroy Hearts?”

"I don't want to miss out on seeing you in action," he drawled suggestively and smiled with teeth. "It's been decades since I've caused havoc on the corporeal plane; I should like to take my time and savor it." He drew Alfred back down and kissed him again. "I missed you dearly. It's wicked how easily you make me forgive you."

“How I lived my life before meeting you, I’ll never know.” Alfred grinned and rolled over so that he hovered over Arthur. He let his fingers gently graze over Arthur's hip, “And how you were satisfied before me, I’ll never understand.” He leaned down and kissed Arthur, “You are simply insatiable.”

"You're going to make those years up to me," Arthur promised darkly with the edge of playfulness dulling the threat. He bit Alfred's lip sore and pulled Alfred's weight on top of him. Alfred's hot skin was a welcome return from the empty life without him. Their tongues dovetailed together and curled lusciously in each other's mouths.

“I plan to.” Alfred murmured against Arthur's lips as the kiss broke. “Diamonds. That’s where we shall conquer first. I think you’ll rather enjoy beheading the king; he does remind me of a certain incubus that you do so seem to hate.”

"If he's /anything/ like that twat, I'll be there," he drawled blandly. He loathed that incubus. "Diamonds it is, then. Leave the King's soul for me to devour, and you can have the Queen and Jack's, hm?"

“As you wish my love. In a fortnight’s time you shall be crowned my queen and upon your coronation we shall strike. Alfred grinned wickedly, the anticipation of the coming reign of blood and fear excited him. By the end of the season they should have hold of all the kingdoms and reign as the unquestioned and all powerful rulers of the deck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to all those so far that have followed this story. I hope you’re enjoying it. I’ll get the next chapter out as soon as possible until then: Love you guys. Please review I’d love to know what you guys think. : )


	4. Chapter 4

"I thought I'd keep the frog alive to snack on between meals, but he is as rancid as he smells. It's probably better, anyway. Too fattening." Arthur puckered his face distastefully as he let the wine glass shatter to the floor. Blood splashed over the red marble of the grand hall where the aftermath of their havoc on the Diamonds castle lay in ruins. Arthur splayed lazily over the high throne with his legs dangling over one armrest and elbows propped up on the other one. The corpse of Francis Bonnefoy lay in a heap of gore on the dais, discarded after Arthur drew out all of the now dead king’s blood and life source.

Arthur was massively disappointed with his share of the royal family. He conceded with Alfred that his mate may have the Queen and Jack if Arthur had the King all for himself. After the demon crushed the desolate King against the wall by his neck, Arthur began devouring his flesh while he was still alive. Muscle and offal were ripped out in chunks, and the two prominent puncture wounds on his white neck evidenced the final torture before his death. 

Arthur finished cleaning his face with a kerchief and tossed it over his head. He sighed, feeling full but lethargic after a greasy meal.

Alfred seemingly danced into the grand hall blood staining the cloths he wore. “Have I ever told you how wonderful virgins taste? I was so lucky that the queen and jack were both virgins. Simply delectable.” Alfred glanced over at Francis’ corpse, “See, I always told him he would look better in red.” Alfred looked over Arthur and slowly walked towards him, “Tired my love?” Alfred asked as he sat down on the table. 

"I hope they /remained/ virgins until the end," he drawled irascibly. He suffered a world-weary sigh. "Perhaps that's the source behind the bitter taste; Francis was a man whore." He dipped his head over the armrest and watched Alfred upside-down. The taller demon practically radiated with contentment, sitting and covered wet and black with fresh blood. "You look ravishing," Arthur admitted baldly.

“Not as ravishing as you will look sitting on that beautiful crystal throne once all this is through.” Alfred sighed as he looked at Arthur who, at the moment, looked like he was about to be sick. “Sit up,” Alfred lightly commanded as he unbuttoned his bloody coat. “Honestly this is why I told you to just behead Francis rather than eat him. Come on I’ll share,” Alfred offered as he tilted his head to the right presenting his neck for Arthur.

Arthur sat up like he was told. He snatched Alfred's tie, doubled it around his hand and yanked him down to his knees. Now at face level, Arthur leaned forwards and lapped at Alfred's neck, clearing away the blood. Hot breath gusted over Alfred's wet throat before he tore into the muscle. Blood rushed into his mouth and Arthur moaned in utter bliss, a guttural sound that purred in his chest. A hand came up to tenderly cup the side of Alfred's face and run his clawed fingers through his ebony hair. He tasted the two virgin's blood diluting into Alfred's blood, but Alfred's unique taste sent Arthur into ecstasy. The devil drank far longer than what was necessary, high on the kill.

Alfred let Arthur drink until he began to feel light-headed; he then grabbed the other’s hair and pulled him back, away from his bleeding neck. “I said share not, kill me.” Alfred growled as the wound quickly closed up. Once he was on his feet Alfred released his tight hold on Arthur's hair, “Are you sane enough to complete the last portions of the plan? We shall need to place the treasures of the Diamonds in Club’s treasure chambers if we are to avoid all suspicion from Hearts as well as the remnants of Diamonds.”

Arthur winced until he was let go-- he didn't look sorry, however, positively sated as a cat as he flicked his tongue over his red lips. He didn't spill one drop of blood. "Hm. But I'm tired," he trilled exaggeratedly and slumped over Alfred's feet. He laughed at Alfred's expression and pawed the devil's pants from his supine position on the floor. "Come here."

“Honestly, this is what I mean by ‘you’re insatiable.’ We have a plan to follow through and you want sex.” Alfred sat down on the chair that Arthur once occupied placing his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his head on his fist. Alfred bored and expression that was a mix between desire and exasperation as he looked down at Arthur. “If you want it so badly, then come and get it.”

Arthur eagerly rolled onto his front and crawled on his hands and knees right between his legs. He tucked himself snug in the wide V-shape and abruptly grabbed and squeezed Alfred's thighs, feelings the muscles tense under his iron grip. He grinned with teeth, his incisors gleaming as he peered up at the other. "I'll help myself, then." He dipped down and mouthed Alfred's hardening cock through his tight pants. He gave a sharp bite-- meant to shock more than to cause pain, and breathed hot air through the fabric. With a few tugs on Alfred's pants they came undone and Alfred's cock was free. Despite the fact that it was Alfred getting head, Arthur was also flushed, grabbing Alfred's base and nuzzling his cheek up the length before popping the head in his mouth.

Alfred watched the display with mild amusement as his cheeks flushed red from the heat that quickly traveled throughout his body. As he watched Arthur bob up and down, Alfred decided to return the favor of the previous bite. He placed his foot between Arthur's legs and roughly rubbed the sole of his shoe against Arthur's semi-hard cock.

Arthur grunted roughly and glared at the man with his cock still in his mouth. As he pulled back he dragged the dull edge of his teeth over Alfred's sensitive skin before letting go with a gasp. He winced as Alfred twisted his heel in further but discovered it was almost pleasant if he arched his back against it. The pressure hurt, but it gave him friction to grind against. He stripped himself naked and saddled up on Alfred's lap with his knees on either side of Alfred's waist. He crushed their mouths together and seized Alfred’s jaw so he couldn't let go. Bruises the color of crushed rose petals marred Alfred’s jaw as the demon released his grip. He smiled against Alfred's lips, brushing his fingers over his handiwork. "Lovely," he sighed as he reached around for Alfred's dick. He sat back and penetrated himself on Alfred's cock, releasing one breathless sigh before shifting more comfortably.

Alfred sat back and allowed Arthur to do all the work. If the red-head was so keen on being fucked then he could manage himself, Alfred was content to let his dick be used as Arthur pleasured himself. Alfred was thirsty after all the blood Arthur took from him and as tempting as it was Alfred would not bite and risk tasting Francis’ disgusting flavor. Alfred let his mind wander as Arthur began to slide up and down on his cock, he wasn’t really in the mood to have sex and yet he always seemed to go along with Arthur's selfish desires.

Arthur didn't seem all that concerned with Alfred's lack of enthusiasm. He knew very well Alfred was indulging him, however begrudgingly. He still liked looking on his lover's dour face and touching it wondrously. He loved him dearly. They rarely communicated it in words, but Arthur put it into every move dedicated to Alfred, /especially/ the sly backtalk and painful bites. Arthur would never suffer 100 years for anyone whom he didn't think was worth it, and there was no one he held in higher regard than Alfred, as young and naive as he was next to Arthur.

He thrust down until he was seated fully on Alfred's lap before dragging himself back up again. He kept at it for a while, watching the cracks in Alfred's composure give away his rising interest. He held onto the back of Alfred's neck and the top of the throne before leaning back. The new leverage granted him greater control, and he was soon hitting his prostate on every penetration. He melted into a wild mess as he bucked up and down on Alfred's cock at a faster rate. "Fuck. Oh, /fuck/."

Alfred grinned amused at Arthur's pleasure, “Aren’t we already?” Arthur was perhaps the only demon older than him who respected him and treated him as an equal, whether it was in bed or elsewhere. Before Arthur could say anything more, Alfred wrapped his hand around the base of Arthur's cock and began to pump in time with Arthur's thrusts.

Arthur had something tart to say to that but choked on the words as Alfred grabbed his cock. He lurched forwards and gripped the top of the throne, steel fingers creaking the wood. He worried his lip between his teeth, biting back a whimper with his eyes squeezed shut. He ground his hips into Alfred's lap and picked up the pace in short, grinding bucks; he reveled in the complimenting strokes Alfred provided with the pace. His wings were taut and flapped idly as he neared his release. Finally he gasped and opened his eyes wide staring sightlessly at the ceiling as he came. Spasms zipped up his spine as the heat from his lower belly spread throughout his body in powerful waves. Arthur rolled his eyes up and moaned low and deep, and his mouth curled in an open smile as he came down from the high. He laughed, lowly, a satisfied chuckle purring in his chest. He gave a final sigh and closed his eyes, content.

“Simply pleasuring yourself? Now that’s quite rude.” Alfred chuckled darkly, lifting Arthur as he stood up and roughly pushed the red-head down on top of the table. “Didn’t anyone teach you to make sure your partner is enjoying themselves as much as you are?” He whispered against Arthur's ear before he began to roughly thrust into Arthur simply for his own pleasure.

Arthur let the insult roll of his back; it was true, after all. He knew Alfred wasn't into it, but it was enough for Arthur that he'd tolerate it enough to get hard for him. Alfred was strong enough that Arthur didn't need to hold on when he lifted him. It gave him a thrill to be thrown back down with Alfred inside of him the whole time. His head smarted on the table, but he chuckled from Alfred's usual "punishment;" hard enough to hurt but never harmful.

Alfred wasn't gentle. It was abrasive and burned and Arthur grimaced miserably but tolerated it. He wanted to keep up with Alfred but was too tired to draw any real pleasure from the act. Alfred's face was enough for him, who stared down at him and hardly looked affected at all. It made him smile and curl his fingers in the fringe at the back of his neck, simply cupping his palm there as Alfred used him for the single purpose of his own satisfaction.

Alfred huffed and groaned as he worked towards his own climax, a few stray beads of sweat forming on his brow due to exhaustion via blood loss. As Alfred was already hard from Arthur pleasuring himself, it didn’t take long for the blue eyed demon to reach his climax. He groaned and rode out his orgasm with a few shallow thrusts before falling on top of Arthur panting lightly, stars dancing in front of his eyes. 

Alfred groaned as he pushed himself up off of Arthur moving to sit down on the chair. He nearly fell into the seat before leaning over and burying his face in his hands. “This is why I never let you drink from me. Absolutely no self-restraint.” Alfred muttered as he rubbed his eyes trying to calm the dizziness he felt. 

"Don't be a baby," he chided, slinking off the table. His ass hurt, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. He slipped into Alfred's lap again, apparently not through clinging to him like a parasite. "I think with your nourishment Francis's blood has all but diluted by now. I'll let you drink to your heart's content later." He lighted a dainty kiss over Alfred's pulse again, obviously thinking of taking some for himself as well. "It's a hard decision to make between drinking your entire life source and letting you live. I wish I didn't have to choose," he pouted.

Alfred looked up at Arthur his expression rather annoyed, “Honestly are you sure you weren’t just born a devil or perhaps even a vampire? Because you could have fooled me, with that endless desire for blood and sex you always have. Sometimes you are worse than Francis at least he takes no for an answer.”

"You're mine, so your body belongs to me. I can do whatever I want," he stated bluntly, and for effect he kissed him hard. Their lips smacked lewdly as he pulled back to grin at Alfred's expression. "At least I gave up my humanity for a good reason; you opted out just to add a few measly decades to your brother's short life. Was it worth it? He died a long time ago. I wonder what he thinks of you now?" He wasn't actually curious about his brother but intended to plant the questions into Alfred's head to churn over. "I'm the only one who cares about you, you know," he whispered into his mouth before kissing again, this time tenderly.

“He thinks I’m an ass just as he always had. I figured it was the least I could do, when it was my fault he was going to die anyways.” Alfred ignored Arthur's last comment in favor of finishing the job they had started. “Get off. We have affairs we need to put in order.” Alfred stood up forcing Arthur to his feet. “Take the King’s crown and pendent to Ivan’s treasure vault, Queen.” Alfred ordered taking back his position as King of Spades. “I will handle the rest.”

"Whatever." His fingers loosened up the sweat in his fiery hair and he strode to Francis's corpse. It was beginning to rot already, a putrid smell that Arthur was used to but never found pleasant. He reached down for the heirloom about his neck, curled a finger underneath the chain and snapped it off. He tossed it in the air a few times, feeling the weight of the jewel in his palm. Then he kicked the crown up in the air and caught that, too. "And what are you going to do?" He was still nude, much preferring the freedom of having no identity linked to his wardrobe. Even if he was the Queen.

“Get caught as a Clubs assassin.” Alfred answered as he transformed into a gruff looking assassin baring the emblem of Clubs upon his chest. “I’ll meet you back at the castle where we shall await ‘such tragic news.’” Alfred muttered the last few words sarcastically, yet his annoyance with Arthur still showed through. Honestly, a hungry Arthur was a passive sweet Arthur whereas a well fed Arthur was a willful ass.

"Don't be long," he sang pleasantly like a wife calling after her sweetheart. Arthur's wings glided him to the high windowsill. Its glass panes were scattered in prismatic shards on the floor where Arthur crashed through to attack the King. Donning the crown and necklace on his person, Arthur peered over his shoulder at Alfred and beamed crookedly. "Until then, love." And then he burst into a crowd of bats that swept into the air and flew towards Clubs. The gloss on their wings reflected off the bright moon just like Arthur's did.

Alfred sighed and picked up the clothes Arthur left scattered on the ground placing them in a pile and burning them so that nothing but soot remained. Taking a good look at Francis’ corpse Alfred groaned, of course it looked like an animal attack rather than an assassination. He quickly summoned one of his old hell hounds, that looked very similar to the mutts he saw often in the human realm, and ordered it to attack the corpse. Once that was in order he went back to the queen’s chambers where the queen and her brother, the jack, lay on top of each other dead, their throats slit. 

Now he simply had to wait until someone came by the room to break out of the window. He didn’t wait long, he heard one on the evening maids scream upon finding the corpses of the other servants and the King. Soon soldiers began to run through the castle and knocked on the queen’s door asking if she was alright. Alfred snickered as he picked up the Jack’s corpse and placed his knife along the Jack’s throat again. As the soldiers opened the door Alfred grinned in glee at their horrified faces before dropping the Jack’s corpse and jumping out the window. He could hear them ordering people after him, but he was too quick he jumped on one of the horses stabled nearby and fled off into the woods before disappearing entirely.

Once he had arrived in Spade’s castle within his study, where he had told the servants he would be, he sat back in his chair now in the clean clothes he had kept inside his drawer the bloody clothing now mere ashes in the fireplace. He felt Arthur appear behind him and slip his arms around Alfred's neck. Alfred looked up at the redhead asking, “What next? Hearts or Clubs?”

"Let's pin the Hearts' deaths on Ivan, too," he offered. He was thankfully dressed now; he wore in evening clothes in the typical wear for their suit's high court, complete with a fashionably skewed top hat. He slinked to the fireplace, kicking the last vestiges of fabric into the pit. "I want to enjoy the scandal as they implicate the Mad King. We can even attend the trial." He delicately tipped his index finger to his chin, a new thought coming to him. "I want to kill Ivan myself. It would be fabulous to have Ivan know we were behind it the whole time, just moments before I rip out his jugular. Hmm."

“No,” Alfred stated firmly. “I get Ivan for myself. It must be made to look like a suicide, and you seem only capable of creating a giant mess which I must clean up.” Alfred sighed and began to shuffle though his paperwork, “I will take care of Hearts as well. They are kind people and did much to help me against Ivan they at least deserve to die peacefully. I will attack them just as suspicious thoughts against Ivan begin to die down. Then once suspicions are at their highest there will be an attack on our court. You will have been stabbed and I narrowly avoided attack, our jack unfortunately was killed. Ivan will soon after be declared as mad. It is at that moment you may kill Elizaveta and Roderich, and I shall hang Ivan.”

"No." His voice completely changed, nothing like the light, condescending lilt he used with Alfred. He looked completely different now, though nothing about his face changed. The fire kicked up behind him, ignited by his anger. Arthur shook his head slowly, dangerously. "You got two Diamonds, I get two Hearts-- and I want Kiku and the little brunette. You can have Yao when the time comes."

Alfred stood up not planning on backing down. “And I told you no. Do not think my strength has waned so much that I am not capable of subjugating you into your place, Arthur.” Alfred flared his wings which had been rapidly gaining strength, his tail flick back and forth dangerously, “You have absolutely no self-control, you act as though you’ve just been turned: constantly hungry, irrationally angry, incapable of reason. Perhaps if you started to act your age I would entrust you with more responsibility.”

"I am acting /exactly/ my age, darling," he tacked on the endearment with a sneer. "It is you who deviates from your nature. You're pathetic to uphold this human, hypocritical 'honor killing' horseshit." He closed in on the devil, calling his bluff. When they were face-to-face, Arthur's forehead met Alfred's chin, but he was no less menacing. "I do as I please. Don't get in my way."

Alfred grabbed Arthur by the collar and slammed him against the wall holding him there by the redhead’s neck cutting off all but a little of his oxygen supply. Alfred leaned close and deathly quiet whispered in Arthur's ear, “Do you wander why I am His favorite? Why Lucifer loves me better? The answer is simple: I am just like him.” Alfred squeezed Arthur's neck tighter, “I rebelled and he finds that fascinating. I refuse to accept his word as law. I question.” 

Alfred refused to back down as was his nature, he was strong and he knew it. He would not bow to those he found weaker than him. He stared Arthur down, his blue eyes burned in anger, “And yet I still refuse to allow others to question me. I have taken powers far about my rank and made them my own simply upon whim. If it is strength you want then I could crush you flat like the insect you are.” Alfred growled out shutting off Arthur's breathing passage way entirely and whispered, “Do not question me,” before letting go. 

Arthur buckled to his knees and collapsed onto his hands. He held a hand to his throat and hacked, his shoulders and back spasming with the force of his coughs. "Funny," he replied after he got his second wind. "I never would have thought that when I had you shuddering and simpering like a eunuch the first night I fucked you." His jade eyes sparkled as he glared up at Alfred through his wine red fringe.

Alfred chuckled darkly, “A time in which I had no memory of the past, a past in which you were the one mewling under me, begging for release every night for hundreds of years. Enjoy the memory, for you shall never see it again.” Alfred walked to the door, reverting back to his human form before opening it and turning around, “I am going to enjoy some supper join me or not, I don’t care.” Alfred left the room shutting the door behind him not expecting any company at supper Arthur was sure to be furious at him for quite awhile. It didn’t bother him at all he was used to the redhead’s anger.

"I'd rather have a real meal," he seethed at the closed door. He was this close to dashing out the window in search for a victim. Maybe if he hid the body well. Arthur seriously considered this, drawing back to the stained glass window and looking out. He flicked his tail. Alfred always sparked Arthur's knee-jerk reaction to rebel. He didn't care whatever Alfred did to for punishment; he'd never kill him. His heart was too weak. And he loved him. 

"That's insurance enough. And besides, it's not like this would be the first time," he murmured to himself. He was leaning forward on the windowsill having spotted a pageboy out in the distance. The devil ran his tongue over his sharp teeth. Lovely. 

He didn't return to bed until late that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So what do you guys think? Getting more interesting? Let me know reviews tend to prompt me to work quicker. As always thanks for reading and please rate and review. Until next time.


	5. Chapter 5

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence

Alfred slowly descended the stairs to the basement via a secret door in his bedchambers. It had been three weeks and silent rumors of Ivan killing diamonds had spread throughout the land. Hearts had increased their guard count and Spades followed suit. Clubs was already being held in suspicion for the assassination of the Diamonds hierarchy by all royal councils just as planned.

Alfred approached the large cell hidden in the blackness of the far back corner. According to Alfred, Arthur had fallen ill with a cold and was not to be disturbed unless Alfred stated otherwise. Instead of sleeping peacefully in his bed as Alfred said he should have been Arthur was chained to the ceiling in iron shackles. Punishment for hunting without Alfred's permission, “Are you ready to listen to orders now?”

That night three weeks ago, Arthur returned from his kill, sated and contented with a full belly. He crept under the covers from the bottom of the bed, intending to crawl his way up between Alfred's legs for some fun when Alfred grabbed him by the hair and hauled him out of bed and out of the room. Alfred dragged him through the narrow passageways between rooms known only to the royal family and chosen few such as the Jack. Arthur hollered at him, screaming threats and pleas alike, the whole way down until they hit the belly of the castle. Alfred didn't listen. He threw him into the cell he was in now and had stayed in for weeks. So Arthur thought: there was no way to tell time here. 

Arthur was dozing with his head lolled painfully on his shoulder when Alfred returned to him for the second time since his imprisonment. He blinked his eyes open, but didn't move. "Thirsty," he rasped softly, almost in a whisper.

“That’s not what I asked.” Alfred snapped from the other side of the bars. “But while we are on the subject you should be more than full. Three feedings in a day, it should last you a month at least.” Alfred pulled the chair that sat beside the cell over; he sat down and glared at Arthur. “But we digress. I asked you: Are you ready to listen to orders now?”

A dry click sounded in the back of his throat when he tried to swallow. He tried licking his lips, but that didn't work, either. "You're going to have to do something better than this. After what I've been through resulting from your transgressions, I will no longer be cowed into your childish fancies. This," he twisted his suspended wrists and the iron scratched together loudly through the stone halls, "is child's play."

Alfred sighed, “So be it.” He stood up and walked over to the cupboard in the corner; he opened it up and grabbed hold of a few utensils. He brought them over one by one onto the table beside the cell door, making sure Arthur got a good look at each one: a knife, a bottle of holy water, a bag of salt, a whip, a hammer, and a simple torch he took off the wall. Alfred picked up the knife and made his way to the cell door unlocking it and leaving it open. He slowly walked towards Arthur until he was standing directly in front of him.

“You know the strange thing about loving for another being is that it makes you crazy.” Alfred said as he gently dragged the knife against Arthur's skin not yet drawing blood. “It makes you want to possess them, make them yours in every way. It makes you want them to obey your every beck and call.” Alfred gently leaned forward and placed a kiss against Arthur's neck. He lifted his head and whispered, “But when they refuse to listen, it makes you want to kill them,” before he plunged the knife into Arthur's thigh, hitting the bone before dragging it up to his hip.

Arthur's eyes pulsed wide; his entire awareness honed in on the unspeakable surprise and agony of the knife wound. Jade irises blew wide and his pupils pinpricked as the demon fought hard against crying out in pain. The most he could do was trap a moan reverberating in his throat. He immediately broke out into a sweat and all color was void from his face. 

"F-fuck..." he moaned as blood poured out of the wound like water. He pivoted more weight onto his uninjured leg, but there was nothing else he could do.

“What’s wrong, Love?” Alfred asked sarcastically. “A little cut too much for you to bear?” A wicked grin appeared on his face, “I know just how to make it feel all better.” Alfred removed the knife from Arthur's leg and gently caressed the side of Arthur's body with the bloody knife. “They do say the best way to fight pain is with pain.” Alfred slowly stabbed the knife back into Arthur's flesh just below his armpit, once the knife hit bone Alfred began to drag it up towards Arthur's elbow, enjoying the shower of blood that rained down from the wound.

"You sick bastard!!" he screamed in agony. His face was taut with strain; his eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared in a snarling grimace. Blood saturated into his clothes on his entire side. His life source, steaming in the bitter cold dungeon, pooled down to his feet. "Fuck you!!" He snarled at Alfred and would have bit him if he were any closer.

“Sick bastard? I’m surprised you think so highly of me.” Alfred placed his free hand on his chest in shock. “As I recall you had claimed I had forsaken my nature, but as you see my dear it never left me. I just hate anyone having control over me.” Alfred removed the knife before reaching behind Arthur and pulling the redhead’s head back by his hair. “You’re the only one I even dare consider my equal but you are so feisty. Never listen to a single command, I put up with it for so long because it was rather endearing but now it does nothing but irritate me.” Alfred sighed and shook his head, “Now here we are.” 

Alfred let go of Arthur’s hair and walked back to the table outside the cell; “Whip or hammer… Hmm do you have a preference my dear?” Alfred ignored the heated glare he received from the question. “You’re right salt and whip together would make a wonderful match.” Alfred walked back into the cell carrying both items and a merry smile on his face. “If only you knew how to behave my dear. We wouldn’t have to do this.” Alfred placed the salt bag on the floor; he spun the whip around before slapping it down on his hand. “I don’t really enjoy it I prefer much more pleasurable contact with you, but you have left me with no choice. If we are to succeed in taking over this world, you must obey my every command without question.” Alfred lashed out the whip against Arthur's back for two solid hits; he swung the whip against Arthur's back again drawing blood with the force of the blow.

One of the lashings split the webbing at the bottom of his wing. A terrified gasped broke the dank air. Arthur's black wings shuddered and dripped blood from the sharply scalloped bottom. He didn't know whether to stretch as far away as possible or tuck them tight against his shoulders and back. But he knew it ultimately didn't matter-- if Alfred wanted to butcher his wings, he would do it. But, he remained silent throughout the lashings, grimacing through the agony of splitting flesh but saying not one word.

Alfred stopped for a moment to admire his work, but soon frowned he gently caressed the injured flesh of Arthur's wings. “Such a shame, they were so pretty.” He shrugged and put down the whip and picked up the bag of salt. “Oh where, oh where, should I sprinkle this first?” Alfred tapped his chin playfully, “How about from where we started.” He began to rub salt into the deep wound on Arthur's leg watching Arthur's expression silently waiting for the screams that Arthur would eventually not be able to hold back.

That was when he started screaming. It burned, like acid cannibalizing his flesh and leaving nothing but white-hot agony exploding in the back of his brain. For a few seconds he couldn't even see, the pain was too much. That Alfred was scouring the rough crystals into his open wounds made it even worse. The devil let out a stream of vulgarities that any human would have been sick from. Between the profanities, Arthur poured all his hate into words and screamed how much he hated Alfred and how he would never forgive the young devil leaving him for dead.

“My, oh my, what foul language! It’s a good thing this part of the castle is sound proof, the maids would blush.” Alfred chuckled as he moved on to Arthur's arm chuckling at the other’s screams of agony after a few moments he moved on to the angry bleeding flesh of Arthur's back covering it with the little crystal particles. He went back to sit in the chair and enjoy the show for a bit. He watched as Arthur screamed at him calling him the worse things the red-head’s pain tainted mind could muster. 

Alfred need not forgiveness from Arthur he needed submission and acceptance of that submission. That was all that mattered in their world love was a notion that got you killed, Alfred didn’t want that for either of them. So to protect them Alfred had to make Arthur hate him, make him fear him. That was the only way Arthur would be allowed back alongside Alfred. 

The King sighed before getting up and recreating his devious expression. “We had better wash out those wounds, wouldn’t want them to get infected.” Alfred walked over to the table and picked up the large bottle of holy water. “Oh, silly me, seems I forgot to get the plain water. Oh well, I suppose holy water will have to do.” Alfred was about to begin pouring the water on Arthur's wounds but a though occurred to him, “Oh, I shouldn’t use all of this for your wounds you did say you were thirsty after all.” Alfred yanked Arthur's head back and poured the water down Arthur's throat.

"Alfred. Al, n-no--" Pupils blown with and shivering with fear, he was /begging/ Alfred with his eyes when Alfred mercilessly pulled his hair back and poured holy water down his throat. Shrieks of unfathomable agony bubbled up through the torrents of water-- and then completely stopped. As the blessed water funneled through his larynx it seared his vocal chords and voice box until they were completely destroyed. Arthur was forced to swallow, and it tore up his insides as it invaded his body. His body was deteriorating from the inside out and all he could do was watch it be done by the creature he dared call his lover.

Alfred kept his face firm but he was dying inside alongside Arthur. He wanted to take Arthur down from there and get him something, anything, to stop the other’s pain. ‘I’m sorry’ Alfred tried to communicate in a brief moment when his eyes met Arthur's. “N- Now I wouldn’t want you bleeding to death that would just break my heart. Let’s fuse those wounds closed now.” Alfred hoped Arthur didn’t notice him stutter over his words as he grabbed the torch and lit it on fire with a snap of his fingers. He grabbed the knife and wiped it off before heating it over the flame until it glowed a bright orange-yellow. Alfred refused to look Arthur in the face as he seared the red-head’s arm and leg wound closed, the salt long bled out. 

Arthur was delirious and drooling. The water mixed with spit sizzled down his chin and tracked raw skin in its wake. The flesh around his mouth was burned away where he coughed up the holy water earlier. Even his lips were partially melted from the acidic torture. Alfred left him as limp as a boneless fish when waltz away and took up his new method of punishment. Arthur wasn't looking or listening to Alfred-- he couldn't, so enmeshed in his suffering that nothing else computed in his senses. He didn't expect it, then, when Alfred took his torture a step further sat cauterized his wounds. A bizarre cracking choked out of his lungs but nothing more. In the middle of the water torture he began crying and started up again.

As soon as he could Alfred fled the room tossing quick words of parting behind him. “U-unfortunately I must go. Matters of state to take care of, I’m sure you understand. I-I hope your answer tomorrow is m-much more pleasurable.” Once Alfred shut the dungeon door behind him he fled up to his room and vomited in the waste bucket. He didn’t return to the dungeon until two weeks later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So uh a tad bit more violent than most of the story but hey DRAMA! So I’ll upload the next chapter as soon as possible. Till next time please rate and review. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred's corporeal body perished after having sold his soul in exchange for a few short years to his brother's life. Arthur was something like Alfred's mentor, and then they became lovers. Then, Alfred rebelled against their Master and was betrayed by the angels whom he allied on his side. Alfred was purged out into the mortal realm while Arthur was banished to the Rings of Hell where he was punished for a hundred years for Alfred's transgressions.

The torture they used on Arthur was inconceivable to humans. It simply did not exist on the mortal plane. Holy water, however, was never used on him up until this point. No matter the degree of corruption Arthur's torturers used on his body, as an immortal and ethereal creature, his body revitalized himself. Not with holy water. It burned like acid, and it never truly healed. By two weeks' time, the burns and melted flesh healed as well as it was going to. Arthur wasn't terribly scarred, but it was obvious. Luckily, his human form was malleable and therefore did not bear the likeness of his true self if he did not wish it to.

Arthur was, of course, in the same place Alfred left him two weeks ago. Blood caked most of his body, but he was better than he looked- superficially, anyway. What happened to him in his mind these past few weeks remained to be seen.

Alfred after weeks of guilt and mentally tormenting himself finally managed to convince himself to return to the dungeon on the knowledge that Arthur was starving. Alfred had killed a girl in the more recluse portions of the kingdom and drained her of her blood which he had stowed in a wine barrel to transport. Alfred carried the heavy barrel down with one goblet, the keys to the dungeon cell clinked noisily against his hip. Alfred paused at the door before taking a deep breath and putting on his best mask.

“Arthur, love! Miss me?” The words carried the vaguest hint of false happiness drenched in tension. Alfred set the barrel down on the chair that he had sat in weeks prior. Arthur made no move to notice him Alfred's heart stopped for a moment wondering if he had killed him. “I brought a present.” Alfred tried prompting. “Come now, Arthur. No need to be so glum.” Alfred's breathed a quick sigh of relief when he saw the small rise and fall of Arthur's chest.

The sound of Alfred's voice stirred in his chest, and he cracked open his scratchy eyes to look. The barrel looked ominous. Wagering on Alfred's joviality --not a speck or sympathy for Arthur's state-- Arthur fared the receptacle to be another one of the many tricks up Alfred's sleeve. Arthur's eyes pulsed wide, realizing it must be more holy water and began shaking again. It was the worst torture a demon could go through because even the memory of it brought flaring phantom pain over the demon. As he recalled what happened two weeks ago, it was as if the memory of swallowing the blessed water was happening all over again, and he whimpered in pain.

Alfred felt the guilt growing in his gut a feeling that he had become much too accustomed to over the past two weeks. Trying his best to not let it show on his face Alfred jovially laughed, “What’s wrong? Didn’t have fun last time?” Alfred chuckled swirling the keys around his finger before gesturing towards the barrel. “I think you’ll enjoy today even more then.” Alfred unlocked the cell door swinging it wide open before turning back and grabbing the goblet. He released the screw that held the contents of the barrel hidden inside filling the goblet before turning back to Arthur. “Fancy a drink?”

No matter how sinister or heinous creatures of Arthur's kind were, they feared holy water above all else. Arthur's nerves were chafed raw and his heart torn inside out. He didn't think Alfred was capable of such cruelty towards him, but he was clearly, devastatingly wrong. He was lost in himself watching his lover mock him and prepare his next torture, but when Alfred closed in on him his eyes pulsed wide in alarm. "A-Alfred," his throat catchy from disuse, "please don't do this to me..." He never dreamed of begging for mercy from Alfred of all people, but life was funny that way.

“Don’t do what?” Alfred asked his expression the picture of innocents, his guts retching with guilt. He tried to ignore how Arthur tried to squirm away from him even though he was chained. “Oh, do you mean this?” Alfred used one hand to pull back Arthur's head by his hair again, gently kissing a stray tear that had snuck from those emerald eyes. “I’m not all evil dear.” Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear as he began to pour the blood into Arthur's mouth.

When blood poured into his mouth his shocked relief was indescribable. He twisted his eyes shut and drank. The virgin's blood was cold and clumpy from coagulation. It was absolutely disgusting, but nothing felt more wonderful than feeling it sliding down his throat. In the back of his eyelids, the girl's life flashed before his eyes: her earliest memory of sitting on her mother's lap as she knit by the fire, her first kiss lost to the stable boy, all up to the final slideshow when Alfred mercifully killed her. She barely even saw her murderer before she was dead. 

Arthur drank and drank. And he begged for more when the goblet was empty. Alfred gave into his need and fed him to the very last drop.

Alfred walked out of the cell after Arthur had drunken the last drops of blood and placed the goblet on top of the barrel. He turned around to face Arthur who was licking the last drops of blood from his lips. “I offer you a deal. You really have no choice but to accept, even so let’s pretend you do. Submit yourself to me entirely. Even the slightest offense of disobedience will result in a persuasive punishment, rather like the last time I was here. But, if you do submit today, we can skip over today’s playdate and get back to taking over the land. If not well…” Alfred open up the cupboard revealing rows of bottles marked as Holy water. “I’m sure we can have so much fun today, until you’re ready to accept.”

Arthur was hollow inside. How did this happen? In the past, Arthur had done far worse to yield hardly a lashing, and that precipitated a very rough and very satisfying round of sex. His eyes were lifeless, and he continued to stare at Alfred before finally looking away and nodding mutely.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you properly,” Alfred spoke loudly. “Did you say you wanted more Holy water?” As he asked the question he grabbed a bottle from the cupboard. “Well if you insist I guess I could humor you.”

"I submit to you!" he screamed into the air and sobbed once, dropping his head in humiliation and defeat. "Anything. Anything you want... just no more." And, because he knew it wasn't enough for Alfred, he went on. "I swear to obey your command. I swear to do nothing /but/ your command." The tears were falling again and he had no pride worth hiding them.

Alfred kept up his façade even as Arthur began to sob, he smiled wickedly and cruelly even as he wanted to run up and kiss away Arthur's tears. Gently he placed back down the bottle and walked over to Arthur. “That’s better. See wouldn’t it have been better to have just done this from the beginning? No pain necessary. Just acceptance.” Alfred reached up and unlocked the cuffs holding Arthur in the center of the room. Even as he yearned to, he made no move to catch Arthur as he collapsed on the floor. “Hurry and get yourself cleaned up. We are having guests tonight at dinner. Nobility from around our land are here to celebrate my glorious birthday. You are expected to attend and be pleasant.”

He didn't expect Alfred's saving arms, but he failed to catch himself and collapsed into a heap on the stone slabs. His body screamed as it contorted out of the torturous position he was subjugated to for a full month. "Y-yes," he gritted through his teeth as he bore through the pain. His bones creaked and his muscles spasmed as he scraped himself off the floor inch-by-inch. Somehow he managed to set his knees together and sit back on his heels. Just that small feat made him shake with exertion. A cold sweat filmed his skin and cast a sallow look in the torchlight. He stayed like that to catch his wind and wait for the tears to pass before pushing himself up against the wall away from Alfred.

Alfred held back a flinch as he notice Arthur tried to stay as far away from him as possible. It would take some getting used to, Alfred wished Arthur never had to go through that form of torture, but orders are orders. “It will be the perfect cover for the Hearts’ assassination, as so many people will see us tonight with gifts and well wishes alike.” Alfred explained merrily, “You will stay here and ensure the guests that are spending the night are well taken care of while I take care of Hearts. Do I make myself clear?”

"A distraction. Yes." Alfred was so smitten with mortal life and its creatures that he would bind himself to its rules. In the name of gentleman's honor, Alfred would let the Heart monarchy pass on respectfully while his true partner held camp under threat of inhumane punishment. 

In an ironic twist of fate, Alfred was more demon than he'd ever been. He would never have been capable of grievously harming Arthur beyond a short reprimand that Arthur oftentimes found a way to twist into debauchery. As Alfred always complained, he gave into Arthur's selfish desires all too easily. Not anymore. 

"I need to feed. I won't make it through the night without." The girl's blood was hardly enough to sustain over a month's worth of deprivation, let alone the energy it took to heal from the burns. As it were, lights scarring marred his face around his mouth. His innards healed in much the same way.

Alfred turned around and faced the stairs that would lead him back to his room. He knew Arthur was right, at the very least demons needed to feed once a week. Arthur had gone much longer and suffered greatly in that time. “The back woods that is where I found the girl. You have an hour make it quick.” Alfred looked back at Arthur, “Dinner starts at five this evening, and it is a quarter till noon. Your outfit it already placed in your chambers, I will send the servants to run you a bath in an hour’s time. Do not be late.”

A miasma of vertigo hit Arthur, and he would have toppled over had he not been already slumped against the wall. He gave a vague sound of affirmation to Alfred and waited until he left to find his prey. It was stark daylight out and the castle was bustling with activity in preparation for the king's birthday feast. Because of this, Arthur donned the vessel of his animal spirit -- a feline cat -- and traversed on foot into the wild. The youth of a maiden daughter of a fisherman revitalized his immortal soul. He dumped her lifeless body where scavengers could pick at her bones, leaving behind no trace of evidence. 

He was back in time for his bath. The queen skillfully brushed off any inquiries about his health, easily fibbing that Alfred was a darling to take care him and that he was so gentle he fell in love with him all over again. It was easy to lie, it was in his nature, but something bitter caught in his throat as he looked at himself in the mirror. The scars healed as much as they could, but he would always have a slight pinkness around his mouth and down his neck where the holy water burned him. He touched the scars of his true self while the attendants unknowingly tended to his human form.

Alfred sat in his office mulling over a few pieces of paper work as he waited for Arthur to finish getting ready. The guests had already begun arriving; Alfred heard the orchestra playing merry tunes to entertain the nobles until he and Arthur were ready to make their grand appearance. Alfred sighed as he mulled over the past month.

He had appeared. It had been three days since Alfred had thrown Arthur in the dungeon in a fit of rage, he had planned on letting him out later that evening until an unwanted guest had arrived. The King of Hell had decided to grace Alfred with his presence. Alfred let his emotions get the better of him and confronted him about everything that had happened after his coup d'état. The king merely laughed off Alfred's feeble revolution, but brought with him a threat as well. Alfred was to become more demonic else Arthur dies.

Alfred began yelling about how the hell he’d prove that and now as he sat and though back on the event he wished he hadn’t. The King stood for a few moments letting a blood-chilling smirk take over his expression. Alfred shivered as he remembered what he was told. ‘Make that willful mate of yours as docile as you’ve made your hell-pups, by whatever means necessary. Remember you have little more than a month to show me your handiwork otherwise you can kiss that mate of yours goodbye.’ 

How Alfred wished that Arthur would have just agreed the day he had tortured him. If he would have just agreed then none of this, would be happening. Arthur wouldn’t be frightened of him, Alfred wouldn’t be making himself ill with guilt, everything would be as it was. If everything went well tonight He would leave them alone. He would let them control this portion of the world for a time, and Alfred could try to fix what he had broken. Alfred sighed to himself; he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes trying to get Arthur's face from that day out of his mind. He looked up at the door as he heard a quiet knocking, “Come in.” He wearily called out.

"His Majesty the Queen has arrived in anticipation for tonight's debut." The attendant opened the door wider to let Arthur inside. Arthur's human guise hid all the recent flaws of his features, but the devil wasn't quite skilled enough to recover the lively spark he once had in his eyes. He looked handsome as ever in his finest wear, including the skewed top hat Arthur privately found ridiculous and couldn't wait to flatten under his foot. His body wracked with shivers when their eyes alighted on each other's, and the older devil struggled to maintain eye contact. "Good evening, my King. The kingdom is blessed to celebrate His Excellency's birthday." He followed up with a smile that felt like clay on his lips. To any observers, not a speck of behavior was out of place. Between them, however, it was clear as day how their relationship had devastatingly changed.

Alfred smiled and wiped his exhaustion off his face, he stood and began to walk towards the door. “Yes well let’s hope everything goes according to plan. You know birthdays they always have something wrong with them.” He held his arm out to Arthur, “Ready, my Queen?”

Arthur shielded his wariness behind a veneer of calm, but panic escalated as Alfred closed in on him. He almost cowed away when Alfred gave him his arm. As it were, he forced himself to calm down and clasp his sweaty hand in the bend of Alfred's elbow. "As ever," he quipped with no enthusiasm whatsoever. Heralds announced them at the top of the stairs, and they slowly descended down together as the guests bowed reverently. "Charming pissants," Arthur chuckled under his breath as the Spades subjects parted like the sea for them. 

He unlatched himself as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion, but before he could break away from Alfred he had to make a show of it. "Do not start dinner too late, darling," he said loud enough for those around him to hear and pecked his cheek before melting into the crowd. Though he was the epitome of dignified and grandiose, Arthur had been trembling the entire walk down the stairs. Alfred wouldn't do anything to him while there were witnesses to attest, but the month's nightmare haunted him and just being around his torturer put him into a state of fear. It was a pitiful experience, one Arthur would have never thought possible with him. It seemed Alfred wasn't the only one who was full of surprises.

Alfred did well to hide his guilt at Arthur's utter terror of his very presence. He made note of the dark presence in the corner but avoided eye contact knowing that at some point in the evening he would have to acknowledge and speak with Him. Alfred smiled as he was greeted by the Duke and Dutchess of the Polanian Commonwealth, next in line should Alfred not adopt or produce an heir. Alfred slowly wandered around the room speaking with each noble family as he passed. He watched Arthur as he did so, ensuring the dark presence went unnoticed by the queen; Arthur already had enough to deal with.

Alfred had finished his rounds with the exception of the figure in the corner. Alfred looked over and noticed Arthur speaking with the Viscount of Amsterdam and his sister. He made his way over to speak with Arthur. Alfred reached out and grabbed Arthur's elbow, ignoring the slight jump as he did so. “Do pardon me, Viscount, but please head to the dining room for supper, I shall be but a few moments late.”

"Newlyweds." The viscount sighed good-naturally with a fond smile. "I shall see you two lovebirds at dinner, then."

Behind Arthur's veneer of polite modesty the devil sorely wanted to shred his eyes out of their sockets. "Indeed. Do excuse us." He let Alfred steer him away by the arm, alarmed by the devil's urgency and wary of what that could entail. "What is it now, hm?" he hissed through a placid smile as they moved through the crowd. "I did everything you asked."

“I have a special guest I must deal with. Keep everyone occupied with the meal until I arrive.” Alfred looked around to ensure no one was looking at them. He smiled politely at a Count, who returned the smile as he headed towards the dining room. As he looked around Alfred noticed the dark figure leave through the back door to the garden. “As for the later plans… After dinner, at the midnight hour is when I shall leave for Hearts, I will return in no more than an hour. Ensure no one asks questions.” Alfred left no room for Arthur to ask questions as he hurriedly walked away from him, heading after Him.

As Alfred went on, Arthur disinterestedly turned his head aside and held his arm akimbo, setting his attention to a vague part of the wall. He already knew what Alfred was going on about. It was because of this that he missed the finer detail sweeping under the meaning behind Alfred's words. He was petrified of Alfred, sure, but he was also annoyed at being herded around like cattle. He placated Alfred with a firm affirmation before the devil sped off to entertain whatever special guest Arthur had absolutely no interest in knowing who it was.

Alfred made his way to the garden as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. He looked around the grounds and saw they were empty, Alfred sighed thinking that he may have just wanted to observe for today when he felt the sharp tip of a nail press into his back. Alfred grew stiff, “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, my Liege.” 

“I simply wanted to ensure you did your job properly.” He replied off handedly stepping back and allowing Alfred to turn and face him. “But I’m surprised Alfred. Holy water? Really Alfred, that’s low especially for you.” He chuckled darkly, “Poor Arthur. He’s probably scared shitless of you now.”

“Yes, well he now listens better. I guess you can say I cleaned out his ears.” Alfred tried to appear relaxed as he waved his hand dismissively in the air, but he could tell He knew better.

“It would appear so. Alfred dear, why don’t you come back and rule with me as a prince of sorts. It will be quite fun.” Alfred never quite understood how the King’s personality could go from threatening overlord to a young child so quickly, but he always became more wary of Him when he did act as a child. It was in those childish moments that the King was his most cruel and vicious.

“It would be an honor your highness, but as you can see I’m already having so much fun here. Tonight I shall end the rule of yet another kingdom and soon I shall have control of all the lands.” Alfred smiled and put on an innocent expression mirroring the King’s, “I’m sure you can understand the pull.”

The King frowned slightly, “More than you will ever know, my boy.” He dismissed Alfred's reply with a wave of his hand, “Well it was worth the try asking. If you do ever get bored up here the offer still stands. Until then I suppose.”

“I will bear that in mind. Farewell, my Lord.” Alfred bowed deeply and sagged with relief as he heard Him disappear. Arthur was safe for now the King would soon find a new toy to play with and leave them alone for awhile, Alfred hoped.

Now that He was gone, Alfred made his way to the dining room where all the guests were located. As he entered the hall everyone stood, “My friends do excuse my lateness. I had a few last minute details I had to oversee.” Alfred made his way over to his ornate seat, “Please be seated. Eat there is plenty to go around.”

While the guests rose for the king, Arthur remained seated. He blandly watched with his fist under his chin and his elbow rudely on the table. He passively watched as Alfred came around and seated himself at the head of the table. Arthur was perched dutifully at Alfred's right-hand side. "Quite. Well, I'm afraid dinner has gone cold," he informed the king without affect before setting his napkin on his lap and ignoring Alfred altogether.

“Such a shame then, tonight’s meal was to be quite grand. Nevertheless there is always cake!” Alfred exclaimed as a queue for the servants to bring about Alfred's towering birthday cake that was dressed in light blue frosting, royal blue ribbons, and sapphires in the shape of spades. At the top of the cake sat a small crown similar to the one Alfred bore upon his head, overall the cake was a very elegant and expensive looking dessert. Everyone except Alfred and Arthur cooed over the cake and its intricacy, Alfred sighed and smiled at Arthur's pouting. It was nice to see some familiar behavior even if it was disdain due to so much interaction with humans.

Arthur sat back and passively watched the guests marvel at the cake. He made no effort in putting any enthusiasm into his act. Sitting besides Alfred like his prized pet was the last place he wanted to be. He was relieved to know Alfred was leaving after this, even if it was to dispose of Hearts. "Hurry it up; the sooner we finish the sooner you get out of my sight."

“Keep it up and I may just have to wash your mouth out again.” Alfred muttered quietly to Arthur before smiling at the nobles who were singing him birthday wishes. It was an empty threat, Alfred would never do that to Arthur again, but the other didn’t know that. Alfred reached inside his coat and flashed a small vial at Arthur containing a mouthful’s worth of holy water, before placing it back inside his coat and graciously accepting the first slice of the beautiful cake.

Arthur hissed without sound, flashing his canines and curling his upper lip with repulsion. Acidic green eyes pierced Alfred with a look of utter hatred before backing down. He looked at the cake slice in front of him for a long while before reluctantly picking up the utensil and spooning in a tasteless bite. It tasted like ash in his mouth.

Alfred internally flinched at Arthur’s glare, another silent acknowledgement that things would never be the same no matter how hard Alfred tried to improve them. Alfred nibbled on his cake and made small talk with the guests ignoring the spiteful looks Arthur kept sending his way.

Once the cake was finished Alfred clapped his hands together and announced, “And now for the fireworks. The queen and I shall view them from the royal platform as is tradition. Please feel free to use any other spot for the viewing it will begin in twenty minutes time.” Alfred looked at Arthur and extended a hand to him and smiled, “Shall we, my queen?”

The whites of Arthur's eyes flared furiously at the proffered hand. There was /nothing/ he could do besides take it and allow the king to guide him up onto the candle-lit balcony. The moment they were out of sight he fiercely snatched his hand away. "Don't touch me, /darling/," he sneered vehemently. Just as he remembered, Alfred's hand was cool to the touch, the same hand that overpowered him in bed and made him beg lasciviously for mercy. It repulsed him now, and the foul bitterness it evoked in Arthur's heart was as torturous as the holy water that marked the turning point in their relationship. They stepped onto the dais as the guests crowded below for the main event. Arthur watched the humans with contempt, glad to be rid of them once this night was over. He had made up his mind.

When the first firework exploded in the night air and bloomed into glittering sapphires, Arthur slinked to the end of the balcony, turned and spread his hands out on the railing behind him. Leaning back, he regarded his fellow demon with glowing, sphinx like eyes. "Why kill the Hearts family, dearest Alfred? After all, you should have friends." His voice was mild and coaxing, as if convincing a child to see reason.

Alfred laughed gently, “What’s this having second thoughts about world domination?” Alfred sighed as he walked over towards the balcony edge, standing beside Arthur he looked out at the fireworks. “Protection.” Alfred looked over at Arthur with weary eyes that showed his sleepless nights. “We won’t be safe until they’re all gone. Hearts, Clubs, both pose an imminent threat and Clubs is the easier of the two to shove the blame upon.”

"Peace is boring," he drawled to himself, momentarily distracted by a bouquet of luminous explosions in the sky. He shot Alfred a coy, sideways glance before kicking off railing and advancing forwards. "It's up to you, /of course/, but hear me out." A smirk more characteristic of his old self brightened his face as he pressed up close to the demon and smoothed out his jacket. His hand slipped inside momentarily before creeping back out. He pocketed the holy water. "At least keep the Clubs king as a pet. It would be such a waste to binge on the blood of such a blood-lusting mortal."

Alfred chuckled while shaking his head, “Ivan would sooner kill himself than submit to my rule.” Alfred sighed and watched the fireworks. “You always have been one for the more chaotic option. If you’re so keen on chaos,” Alfred flicked his wrist out and summoned his demonic blade, “Then kill me and watch the disaster unfold.” He smiled sadly as he offered the blade to Arthur, “It’s only fair.”

"Only fair," he parroted, shifting back on his feet warily. This was definitely a test on his loyalty to his oath. Surely the moment he reached for the blade Alfred would turn it on him and "follow up" on more punishment with torture. His eyes flicked to the blade, a queasy stew of complicated feelings coagulating in his stomach. Only ethereal or demonic weapons of war truly damaged demons. He wanted revenge, wanted to spear Alfred and watch his life force pour from his body. But the pitiful, weak, and nostalgic part of him hesitated to rid Alfred from existence entirely. 

Not that it mattered. Alfred would never allow it to happen. That didn't mean it wasn't hard to back away. It was another show of submission. A little reminder of his place. Arthur was utterly humiliated to reject an offer to kill his tyrant because Arthur /knew/ he was incapable of doing it. He abruptly pivoted away, hands tightening into fists as his strained his muscles to will away the tremors of fury coursing through his body. "Ha. Very funny."

Alfred held the blade out to him a moment longer before placing it down beside him. He stared out at the fireworks quiet for a few moments before speaking. “You know I hate this place. Honestly. It brings out the worst in people, makes them do things that they later regret. I hate monarchs they are the ones who sometimes force you to do those things.” Alfred looked at Arthur's back which was still turned toward him. “To make you hurt the ones you love, and be left with their half selves due to their hate and fear of you.” Alfred looked down at the blade, “I would have left you done it you know. Like I said it’s only fair.” Alfred picked up the blade and sighed. “So be it you want chaos, then chaos you shall have.” With that Alfred ran himself through his abdomen with his blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNN! Cliff hanger. Sorry about the long wait for an update anyways here’s the next chapter. As always please rate and review, we love hearing your thoughts on the story. Until next time.


	7. Chapter 7

"Alfred!!" Arthur shrieked and spun around. He rushed towards him with inhuman speed and caught him behind the shoulders before Alfred's knees gave out. Absinthe eyes pulsed wide as he looked over the gore and damage the demonic sword had done. The blade had penetrated through to his core and left out of his back. "Alfred..." he whispered breathlessly, and he very slowly shook his head. He was trembling and in shock.

The look in Alfred's eyes made Arthur turn away. He couldn't look at them. He knew it was his choice. "Don't... make me choose..." he gasped, head hung low and bangs obscuring his eyes. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling. "You're not the Alfred I know," he said to himself as much as he said to Alfred. As vulnerable and weak as he sounded, he went on. "He would have never done that to me. Your month was worse than His hundred years, Alfred. I never once broke then, did you know that?" he shook his head. He wasn't hiding his sobbing anymore. "Because, despite myself, despite the hatred for the damage you left behind, something inside of me fought on because I wanted to see you again." He rested his hand next to the blade, but didn't do more than that.

Alfred wheezed and hacked up blood; once he caught his breath he spoke, “Apparently He wasn’t happy about that.” Alfred smiled sadly blood coating his chin. “It’s okay. I understand that you hate me now, and its okay.” Alfred moved his hand away from the blade and his bleeding stomach; he gently cupped Arthur's cheek and looked Arthur in the eyes. “You’re safe now. He won’t bother you anymore. This kingdom is yours; do with it as you please. You never needed me to begin with; I was fun that was all.” Alfred coughed again wincing in pain once the fit was over. He smiled gently at Arthur, “I love you and though it probably won’t mean much I’m sorry.” 

Alfred's hand was slick and warm with blood. "Master?" he repeated softly. Did He and Alfred come to an agreement? For Arthur's sake? Now wasn't the time-- he had to save Alfred. His eyes didn't stray from Alfred's as he swiftly and cleanly unsheathed the sword from Alfred's body. Arthur bit his wrist, snapping the thick arteries before shoving it in Alfred's mouth. "Drink!!"

Alfred was still gasping out in pain when Arthur shoved his wrist in Alfred's mouth, he nearly choked on the fluid that quickly filled his mouth. He tried to push Arthur's had away but couldn’t muster enough strength to do so. He soon gave in and followed Arthur's command drinking slowly and deeply only stopping when he felt a sliver of his strength return, just enough the slow the bleeding taking his life out of immediate danger. The wound though still open slowed its bleeding to make it something much more manageable to deal with. Alfred allowed himself one more glance up at Arthur before passing out from exhaustion and blood loss.

The royal guard heard the chaos; Arthur could hear them rushing in. He glanced down at Alfred and the butchered hole in his gut. He had to act now. Just before the guards arrived, Arthur enveloped him and Alfred under a cloak of invisibility. He skipped back out of the way and watched as the guards came to a shuddering halt in front of the abandoned pool of blood and floundered around in a panic looking for the missing couple. 

Arthur heaved Alfred up on his back and used the balcony railing as leverage to kick off into the air. Still on the upswing of his recovery, Arthur struggled under Alfred's mass as they fell like dead weight to the ground below. And just before he crashed into the oblivious crowd he spread his wings out and glided over their heads. Gracefully dodging collisions and obstacles, he lighted on top of a pavilion attached to the castle and jumped up again to the King's suites. The window-panel doors crashed open under his command as he swept in. At the bed, Arthur leaned over and turned his back, letting gravity gently roll his lover off his back and onto the bed. 

In afterthought, he cast a ward over the door to the bedchambers and sat down beside him. The fringe of his blood-red hair lifted from the force of his sigh as he blew out an exasperated raspberry. "You're a real pain in the ass, Alfred."

It wasn’t until several hours later that Alfred began to gently stir he noticed the sensation of tightly wound bandages around his abdomen as he slowly began waking. He recognized the soft feel of sheets below him and the warmth of the cool summer air hanging about. Alfred started to roll over to his side to get more comfortable, but soon stopped as a searing pain coming from his abdomen shot through his body. He gasped out in pain, squeezing his shut eyes tighter together to try and block out the agonizing feeling. As Alfred remained still the pain died down to a throbbing sensation which was still quite unpleasant but more bearable than the earlier flash. 

Arthur erected a muffler over the walls to mute the guards' desperate attempts to break in while he dressed Alfred's wounds. He waited for the devil to stabilize before finishing the second half of his cover-up. When he swept all memory of the last hour out of the humans' minds, he appealed to them to remain calm and assured them he and the King will get to the bottom of things. At the same time he subversively hinted that this may be Ivan's machinations. The speech left much to speculation and for the first time Arthur was glad that humans were so easily entertained by gossip. 

Arthur was besides Alfred on the bed sitting cross-legged and looking outwardly bored when the young devil came to. His chin was propped in his palm with his elbow on his knee. Arthur's back was to him, and he was looking out into the moonlight through the open curtains. "About time you woke up." he called out blandly, not even sparing him a sideways glance.

Alfred looked over and saw Arthur's back facing him, “Arthur?” Alfred tried to reason in his mind why Arthur would still be here in the room waiting for him to wake up as he had made it clear that he didn’t trust or still feel the same about Alfred anymore. “What are you-” He paused mid-question in exchange for asking a more pressing question, “Why did you save me?”

He thought Alfred would ask. After hours of hard thought, Arthur still didn't have a good answer. "It wouldn't do to be incarcerated for Hell knows how long having been discovered with the King's dying body in your arms and no witnesses." He distractedly extended his arm and examined his nails.

“Oh I see.” Alfred looked away from Arthur maintaining a neutral expression. He didn’t know what answer he had expected but it was certainly not this. Arthur never gave a damn about what others though before and could have easily made up an excuse as to what happened. People would believe Arthur no matter what he told them because he was queen. His word was as much of the laws as the King’s. “What do the others know of this?” Alfred wanted to get away from the previous subject before he could make himself sick with guilt again.

"Not very much at all," he answered around a smirk and left it at that. He didn't owe it to Alfred to sate the other's curiosity. And, if that bred an amount of worry on Alfred's part, then so be it. He got up from the bed and made his way to the door. "Then I'll relieve you of my presence, /sir/." he tacked on the formality with sarcasm. The irony was not lost on Arthur that it was he who carried over their former master-servant dyad into the present, but as far as Arthur was concerned it was honorary-- he was done with Alfred.

Alfred lay there silently after Arthur left letting the guilt consume him as he had done many times before. He blinked back the glossy shear that started to block his vision, berating himself for everything that had happened in the past few weeks. “Why didn’t you just let me die?” Alfred muttered to himself quietly. “Is this your punishment? Leave me alive to let the guilt of what I did consume me?” Alfred sarcastically huffed a laugh, “Touché.”

Arthur spirited away to his apartments under the veil of invisibility. He thought if a human so much as looked at him he would tear their throat out with his teeth. He was famished, his stomach twisting in sharp hunger pangs, but he was still too cowardly to feed. He slept like the dead for an entire day and let his body recover under the satin sheets and soft down mattress.

As exhausted as he was, Alfred only managed to get a few hours rest. Every time he closed his eyes the image of Arthur choking on holy water in the dungeon played in his mind. Yao had come in the late afternoon to see how he was doing and try to figure out what happened, Alfred simply told him it was just another failed assassination attempt and he would be fine in a week or so. 

As one week passed into two Arthur had still not returned to Alfred's chambers since the incident. Alfred accepted this and made no move to ask to see him or even ask about his well being, Arthur would probably find it nothing more than a burden.

Alfred mostly lay in his bed staring at the ceiling ignoring those who came in and out of his room. He refused to eat saying that he wasn’t hungry. The maids had begun to talk Alfred could hear them outside his room, he didn’t care. Why should he? No one really cared what happened to him. Once he was dead more people would benefit than from when he was alive. Alfred simply stopped caring, and let himself become a living corpse, wanting nothing more than the bliss that death would bring him.

The winds sweeping through the Queen's private gardens carried the perfumed scents of dewy roses through the cold night air. Arthur stepped into the clearing under the new moon and waited with his arms crossed against the chill. He knew He would come. Arthur had impressed his will upon summoning an audience with his master, and finally the dark lord answered his call on this moonless night. He wanted answers, and he could only get them from the dark lord himself.

“Arthur, dear, you’re on quite a long leash, aren’t you?” A dark figured chuckled as he stepped out of the shadows and slowly approached Arthur. “What happened? Master home sick?”

Arthur pivoted halfway towards Lucifer as the figure emerged from the shadows behind him. "Yes. And he was kind enough to extend my curfew," he drawled blandly. His heart thrummed in his ears as his master approached him, but he betrayed no outward tell of his rising anxieties. "You know why I'm here."

“Do I?” He asked with an amused smile. “Why don’t you remind me? I am ever so busy running the pits of hell you can’t expect me to remember why every underling wants a word with me.”

"You must be getting dull with age," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I'll refresh your memory, then. You made a deal with Alfred about me, and I want to know what it was." As long as he wasn't too acidic with his verbal barbs, he wasn't in any danger of invoking his master's wrath.

“How about a middle-ground you tell me how much you know and I’ll fill in the gaps.” He more stated than asked.

Arthur pursed his lips unhappily. He didn't want to say it. "Very well, master. It had to do with him breaking me like a dog." Putting it into words was its own torture. A dark anger crested over the shame just thinking about it.

“Break you?” Lucifer laughed as though the mere thought was a ridiculous concept in and of itself. “Never my dear, you are much too strong for that. No that is entirely off the mark, my real objective here was to break Alfred. This “punishment” as everyone seems to call it was simply a façade. If you can’t already tell, I’ve succeeded in breaking young Alfred beyond repair and I never had to raise my hand to him.” He began to slowly to circle around Arthur like a predator closing in on its prey. 

“You’d be surprised Arthur, if you could read Alfred’s mind, out of all his rebellious thoughts he has always been more concerned about your safety. And I used that against him. What would kill him more than hundreds of years of torture? No, not knowing you had suffered that in his place. What would kill him is having to do it himself. Having to put you before him and telling him that you, Arthur, need to learn your place and be placated or you will die.” He stopped in front of Arthur a malicious grin plastered on his face. “He would sooner torture you and have all of your bitter hatred placed upon himself than see you die. And yet hurting you is the one thing that would break him in two. That is his one weakness.”

Arthur stumbled back, subconsciously breaking out of the circle Lucifer was closing around him. "You sick /fuck,/" he hissed, more horrified than anything else. "Alfred already paid his dues. He already went through the guilt having known what you put me through for the last hundred years." He would have spit in his face if he could. "The punishment should fit the crime, but Alfred did nothing that merits breaking his spirit."

“Are you not just a cruel as I?” Lucifer’s smile became more bemused. “He has already tried to kill himself, but you did not let him die like he wanted to. Is that not a more cruel fate? You’re forcing him to live broken and already half dead.” He chuckled to himself, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried again. He always has been the dramatic sort too first not sleeping, then not eating, then cutting himself. Whatever could he do next?” Lucifer waited a moment while Arthur stood there trying to figure out what he was hinting at. He laughed to himself again. “Perhaps I could be nice enough to point it out: look for a pattern.”

"Don't you /dare/ put this on me!" he roared. A harsh aura curled like smoke around his figure, red and menacing. The metallic tang of blood filled the air. A fierce protectiveness and fear encapsulated his being, and all he could think about was what Alfred was doing right now. "I've had enough of you! What will it take for you to leave us alone?!"

“Now why would I do that? It’s much too fun to play with you two. It’s such a rare thing to see two demons so in love and so fiercely protective of one another. I can’t help but want to destroy that happiness.” Lucifer paused in moment and thought, “Now what was it that the angels said… Ah yes! We are demons it is not in our nature to be kind or to care about the happiness and well-being of others.” He turned a cold stare on Arthur, “Perhaps if you two never fought your nature this would have never happened. After all it was your job to teach him, not love him, Arthur.”

Lucifer knew exactly how to get to him. "I don't love him," he seethed through his sharp teeth, his nostrils flaring with white-hot rage. It wasn't the first time Lucifer accused him of love. In fact, the last time was before Arthur's --correction, /Alfred's/-- punishment in the Pit. The devil denied it now as vehemently as he did then, but actions spoke louder than words. Arthur used to believe he was just like every other devil: wrathful, envious, prideful; the whole order of cardinal sins. /Alfred/ was supposed to be the defect. The younger devil served under Lucifer from very different circumstances than Arthur and the others, and therefore he wasn't like the rest. It was because of Alfred's deviancy that Arthur was assigned to mentor him into his role. By some miracle (or curse), it was Alfred who changed Arthur.

He bit his nails into his palms and grounded himself with the pain. Lucifer was tricking him by steering him into feelings he'd rather not revisit. He needed to keep control of the conversation. "What would it take for you to leave us alone?" he asked lowly.

“I wonder about that.” Lucifer turned around and watched the fountain as he spoke, the moon light glittering across the rippling surface. “Kill Alfred or attempt to kill me and die trying. That is the only way I will leave you alone. That child has been a thorn in my side since you made a damn contract with him. An amusing thorn yes, but now I would rather just be rid of him. He has become nothing but a burden. Since he started a revolution many have thought they could try their hand at over throwing me. I will make that brat an example of what happens to those who disobey me.” He turned around to enjoy the blatant anger that always appeared upon the redhead’s face when met with a difficult decision. Lucifer glanced up at the castle for a brief moment and smiled wickedly, “Though if you keep wasting time here you may not even have to make that choice, he’ll make it for you.

Arthur spun around searching for the King's quarters. There was no light, no sign of life, and that made it all the more frightening. Without a second thought to the repercussions of leaving without permission, Arthur quickly took off towards the castle. The bedchamber windows banged open before Arthur like the night of Alfred's birthday, and the devil rushed in. "Alfred! Where the fuck are you?!"

Alfred lay on the floor beside his bed covered in a mix of his blood and holy water, his skin red and irritated by the mixed substance, blisters covered his body. His mouth was slightly deformed around the lips and blood seemed to flow freely from his mouth. Three empty bottles of holy water lay scattered around him and one that was still full sat on the night stand table. Strained wheezing came from the unconscious body as his skin continued to slowly burn. He loosely clutched a note in his hand that was partially covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So Alfred's a bit screwy right now… and if you haven’t already noticed Alfred's and Arthur's relationship is not a healthy one… Yet neither of them can just abandon the other after all they have been together for longer than a millennia. Anyways Rate and reviews are always welcomed! See you guys next time. : )


	8. Chapter 8

When Arthur saw Alfred, time seemed to stop. Taking a closer look, his heart seized in paralyzing shock when he realized that this was Alfred's doing. Without thinking, the devil rushed over and dropped to his knees at Alfred's side. It was obvious what happened, but Arthur needed to know how to fix it. 

His fingers gingerly hovered over Alfred's prostrate body, loathing to touch. Recent memories made his body remember the blisters bubbling up and covering his skin. Pure agony. It was all he could do to remain at Alfred's side and not scuttle away in fear, but Arthur had to push himself further. He had to save Alfred.

"Alfred!! You son of a bitch--" He gripped the devil by his collar and hauled him upright. There was residue of holy water on Alfred's clothes, but the devil ignored the pain. When shaking didn't wake the younger devil, Arthur punched him. "Wake up, you coward!"

The note Alfred had held in his hand fluttered down into the puddle of bloody holy water as Arthur tried to wake Alfred. Alfred came to for a few brief moments to vomit up more blood and the holy water that was slowly killing him from the inside out. He began to pass out again, but Arthur wouldn’t allow that and shook him harder forcing him to stay awake in a delirious pain driven state.

The note was hardly acknowledged; what was important was his lover's dimming life force. Arthur wouldn't allow Alfred take the easy way out. There was too much history between them, too much love worth salvaging of their relationship. 

"Killing yourself doesn't even /begin/ to cover your penance," he growled. "You're going to make it up to me for the rest of your life," he vowed as Alfred finally jerked into a state of passing lucidity. "Stay awake. That's an order." His voice was much like the one he used for Alfred in their beginning years before they were lovers. It demanded absolute submission. Arthur used his incisors to snap the vein on his wrist, the same one used to feed Alfred when he stabbed himself. He shoved it inside Alfred's blistered mouth. Hot blood collected in the devil's mouth, and before Alfred could think to spit it out the older devil seized Alfred's windpipe in his steel grip threateningly.

Alfred choked and jerked as the blood slid down his throat freely dividing itself between his esophagus and trachea, the valve that once separated the two melted away by the acidic effects of the holy water. Tears rose to Alfred's eyes as his air deprived lungs begged for mercy, he clawed at Arthur's hands silently begging him to stop. 

Arthur wrenched his wrist back when he realized what was happening. He kept Alfred elevated as the other weakly hacked up his blood. Arthur knew it had to have repaired at least some of the damage to his throat, but it wasn't nearly enough. "Alfred..." he trailed off in a hopeless daze. He slowly brought a hand up to gently stroke his lover's face as he stared down helplessly at the slowly dying devil. The sudden urge to cry pushed against his sinuses, and he felt the all-too familiar sensation of tears rimming the corners of his eyes. He was angry as much as he was sad, but in the end the anger won out because he refused to give up.

"Alfred," he began, bracing himself with resolve. This simply had to work. "Listen to me: will your body to recover, but only put care into mending your throat. Nothing else." Fingernails bit like teeth into Alfred's shoulders as the devil glared at him with death in his eyes. "Do it."

Alfred looked at Arthur with exhausted eyes, he rested his head on Arthur's shoulder and mutely nodded. His eyes slipped shut; one would have thought he had passed out again if it wasn’t for the near silent change in the sound of his breath. The wheezing lessened and the breaths grew the slightest bit deeper. Alfred slumped further against Arthur utterly exhausted at the use of his magic in his weakened state.

With Alfred's dead weight in his arms, Arthur pressed Alfred's limp body flush next to his and held him close. He cleared Alfred's bangs from his sweat-sticky forehead and stroked his face encouragingly, taking mind to lessen the pressure as his hand lighted over the blisters. 

"You're not done yet," he reminded. He offered his upturned wrist. Alfred could see the devil's pulse beating through the deceptively thin, translucent skin.

Alfred couldn’t find strength enough to do more than open his mouth. Arthur who seemed to realize this brought his wrist up against Alfred's mouth so that Alfred didn’t have to do more than bite down and let the warm liquid slide into his mouth and down his roughly healed throat. Alfred didn’t drink much before his exhaustion won out, he tried to stay awake and drink more but his eye lids grew heavy and his head drooped down further. He continued to suckle lightly at Arthur's wrist as a toddler would their bottle right before falling into a deep sleep, soon he fell asleep entirely his body going limp against Arthur's.

Arthur waited until the last drop passed down Alfred's throat. Then, he gathered him up in his arms and carefully deposited him on the bed. Despite his light-headedness, the devil's supernatural strength made it easy to lift the bigger devil's bulk. He should have left him like that; Alfred's condition was stable and Arthur's essence should aid the healing process while he slept. But he couldn't. The devil slipped in next to Alfred, fitting his body against Alfred's and laying his head on Alfred's chest. "What am I doing," he agonized with a long sigh. "You don't deserve it," he muttered with his mouth muffled against Alfred's cool skin. He stayed with him until Alfred woke up.

For a few brief moments upon awaking Alfred felt nothing but the gentle pressure of another body pressed against his. The second he tried to move is when it all went back down hill. Agony course though his body his flesh felt as though it was on fire he tried to yell out in pain but couldn’t find any strength in his voice above a strained whisper. It took Alfred a few pain-filled thoughts to remember why his body was in such searing agony. He remembered asking Yao to bring up the water from the basement not giving him much direction besides that. He tried to remember what happened next but the haze of pain didn’t allow him the opportunity.

Arthur was already awake and keeping vigilance over Alfred body, not trusting Lucifer wouldn't drop in unexpectedly. When Alfred seized in pain, the devil calmly rose and sat back on his heels facing Alfred. Arthur had expected this. "Get up," he ordered, gentle despite the command for obedience. He forced Alfred against the headboard and supported his head upright by cupping the back of his head. He lifted his wrist to Alfred’s mouth once more. "Drink," he commanded again. 

Alfred obeyed the command not because it registered in his mind but because primal instinct took over. If Alfred was still in his right mind he wouldn’t have listened to Arthur if only for the simple fact that Arthur had already given him so much blood. Alfred latched onto Arthur's wrist with as much strength he could muster and drank deeply from the freshly opened wounds. The pain faded a little the more he drank, so Alfred continued to drink not paying attention to how much blood he was taking.

Arthur stoically waited as Alfred gained back his strength by feeding on his life source. He held out longer than he would have before and gave him the extra blood he wanted. When darkness curled at the edges of his vision he twisted his wrist out of Alfred's grasp. He held the bite mark out of view, lest Alfred be spurred on by the sight of blood.

Alfred reached out weakly for the wrist as it was taken away from him, instinct demanding more, but reason slowly came back to him and he was able to take in more of his surroundings. He looked up at Arthur still letting the redhead support him upright. In the back of his mind Alfred wondered why Arthur was here. Alfred's thoughts were still fuzzy but he was able to remember that Arthur had already given him blood the night prior. Alfred tried his best to form words to ask Arthur when he last hunted but could manage no more than one word. “Hunt?” Alfred forced the word out of his throat coughing as his voice caused his throat to sear in pain from being used. 

"You tell me," he sighed. It hadn't been since he was given permission by Alfred two months ago. Food prepared for human consumption only supplemented a real diet. It was blood and the hunt that creatures like Arthur survived on. Knowing any reassurance would fall on deaf ears, Arthur forewent telling Alfred he was all right and combed his fingers through Alfred's thick, ebony hair. "Don't piss me off and stunt your recovery by crying over spilt milk."

Alfred smiled lightly, and nodded. “Go.” Arthur needed to hunt Alfred knew that much, he also knew he would survive even without Arthur there. He hurt, yes, but he would live and recover well enough with time. Alfred had no idea of the imminent danger he was in not only from his weakened body, but from the enemies that surrounded him as well. 

"Later," he replied dismissively. He didn't want to leave while Alfred could barely stand, let alone defend himself against the danger he most feared would return to haunt them. "I can barely see straight, anyway. And you say I have no self-restraint." Despite his cruel words, the fact that he remained at his side belied his concern. Concern one wouldn't have for someone who hurt them if they weren't so devastatingly in love with them.

Alfred wanted to push further but he could tell Arthur didn’t plan to leave anytime soon. Alfred opened his mouth to suggest they at least order food it may not be as nutritious to them as blood but it would still help some. Alfred tried speaking but the words caught in his throat he couldn’t get what he wanted to say out his vocal cords were badly damaged from the holy water and needed time to heal as did the rest of his body. He grew frustrated with his inability to speak and weakly threw a fist at one of the pillows wincing as the movement caused some of the burning on his skin to return.

Arthur shrugged, a lazy roll of his shoulders as he settled back comfortably into the curve of the wood. He couldn't sympathize with Alfred when he was torn up about own his problems. A botched suicide attempt was running away from the problem-- it solved nothing. No words were exchanged, no feelings were conveyed. Nothing was settled. That was why it was difficult to stick around and play nursemaid. Arthur was a creature of little words, yet now of all times he needed to hear it. "Pathetic," he mumbled to himself.

A hot tear escaped Alfred's eye as he heard Arthur mumble to himself, Alfred pushed his body off of the redhead’s with as much might as he could muster his body screaming in protest. Alfred moved so that he was at the edge of the bed, he tried to stand up but the moment he put weight on his legs the collapsed beneath him. He fell to the floor and on top of the dried up blood and holy water. Alfred cringed in pain, a few choked back sobs of pain breaking through his lips. He opened his eyes and saw the note he had written the previous night before he had downed the holy water and nearly killed himself. He reached out for it once more ignoring his body’s protests.

Arthur's face puckered into a frown as he watched Alfred writhe on the floor. "The bloody hell are you doing?" He took his time slipping out of bed and crouched down beside him. He sat back on his haunches and peeked up at Alfred inquisitively and somewhat mockingly. The devil sat back in alarm when he saw the tears and fixed Alfred in a worried, yet critical glare. As he was about to speak, he caught sight of the note. He promptly plucked it from Alfred's shaking hand, vaguely recognizing it from earlier. He turned it over and read the message.

‘Arthur,

Are you happy now? Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to feel the same pain you felt? For me to live with the guilt of what I’ve unwillingly done until it drove me mad? Until it drove me to death? To punish me for finally following your advice and taking orders like I should have done? I can’t fix what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. You hate me now. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can do to try and make this up to you but I hope this is enough.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me.

All my love, Alfred’

Alfred looked up at Arthur watching his silently reading the note. Alfred wasn’t quite sure how Arthur would react upon reading the note, and Alfred wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know. If Arthur was reading the note he was suppose to be dead. It wouldn’t matter how Arthur would react then because Alfred wouldn’t be around to see it.

The note shaded Arthur's eyes from Alfred's scrutiny and made it impossible to know what he was thinking. Slowly, the note lowered from his face and two absinthe eyes fixed Alfred in its gaze. He didn't move, he didn't speak, he didn't do anything for a very long time. "Do you think that would make me happy? To end yourself?" His voice was calm, but its lack of emotion foreshadowed a brewing rage. "What could I possibly gain from your leaving me? You're a coward, that's what you are. You're afraid of what it would take to repent so you give up." His lip sneered distastefully, as if caught on the last words. 

"I won't allow you to feel sorry for yourself! You have a debt to pay, so pay it!" He put all his strength behind the punch that knocked the weak demon against the side of the bed.

Alfred's head rattled from the force of the blow and the force at which his head hit the side of the bed. He held still until the pain dulled enough for him to move again. Alfred looked up with questioning eyes, how would he ever make it up to Arthur? That unbearable searing agony that Alfred now knew all too well, there was no way to repent for something that cruel. What did Arthur want from him? Not his life, not his title, there was nothing Alfred could give that Arthur would be satisfied with. Why did Arthur go out of his way to keep saving him? He hated Alfred didn’t he? Alfred couldn’t make any sense of the situation. He couldn’t make any sense of Arthur's actions. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

Arthur answered the question Alfred was unable to ask. "We'll just have to wait and see," he cooed darkly as he pushed himself up to his feet. He unkindly nudged Alfred with his foot, and when the devil shifted away from the bed Arthur took him by the arm and hauled him back onto the bed. "Rest. You're a pain in the ass to look after." Arthur then went to the balcony and opened the doors with a flourish. "I'm going to get something to eat," he said and vaulted off of the railing.

Alfred sat there alone on the bed staring at his lap until he began to feel the stinging pain tingle over his skin again and the exhaustion it brought with it. He moved slowly as he lay himself down on the bed cringing at the pain the pressure of laying down brought upon his body. He tried not to let his mind wonder over what Arthur said, but he knew Arthur was right. He was a coward. He didn’t, no /couldn’t/, deal with the pain he had caused Arthur and so he tried to take the easy way out. If he had any hope of Arthur forgiving him he had lost it now. Alfred sighed and closed his eye to get some of the much needed rest he required to heal, letting the guilt of what he’d done sink deep into his gut.

Arthur enjoyed the hunt as much as he did the kill. Taunting his prey as he chased them this way and that, seeing the whites of their eyes as they screamed for their mortal lives; it was just as exhilarating as feeling the wet flesh slide down his throat and the bones snap between his teeth. This time, he hunted for survival-- Alfred's survival. He picked off a petite scullery maid he could easily cloak under his illusion spell and immediately took off back to Alfred's rooms. Knowing Alfred was queasy at the moment, he snapped her head around before he arrived to spare Alfred the unnecessary struggling. 

"I'm home, sweetheart," he heralded in a sarcastically sweet melody. He hefted up the body further on his shoulder. "Lunchtime," he rang out and dumped the fresh corpse on the bed. Grabbing the girl's hair and yanking it back, Arthur sunk his teeth into her fair, unblemished neck and began feeding on the quickly cooling blood.

Alfred laid facing away from Arthur playing possum, he hoped Arthur would think he was asleep and leave him alone. He felt near sick with guilt and couldn’t bring himself to be hungry even with a kill so close to him. He listened as Arthur drunk deeply from the dead servant (Alfred presumed from the short amount of time it took him to come back) nausea increasing from the stench of iron in the air.

Arthur pulled away from the gore with a satisfied sigh only had after a full meal. He chased a drop of blood from the corner of his lip, but his face was otherwise clean. Arthur could be a neat eater-- when he wanted to be. "All yours," he said and shifted away but not off the bed. Not surprised Alfred would be in a mood even for human blood (the best kind), but he wouldn't let his hard work go unappreciated. "Although she's not a virgin. Heh." After a moment of no response, Arthur crawled to Alfred's side of the bed and shook him none too gently. "Oi. Drink before it gets cold."

Alfred made no noise as Arthur shook him, he couldn’t bring himself to move or even acknowledge Arthur. He lay on the bed with his eyes shut not interested in the prospects of an easy meal. In fact, all the hunger that had visited him upon waking was gone. He felt numb and wasn’t sure why. It could have been due to shock from his injuries finally setting in, or a side effect of the holy water he drank, or perhaps the verbal lashing that Arthur had given him. Alfred simply didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got to eat, he didn’t care if Arthur hated him, he didn’t care if he would never wake up, and he didn’t care if he should even care at all. He simply couldn’t, his mind wouldn’t let him. On a subconscious level he realized his brain was trying to protect him from something, but he couldn’t figure out what. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know at all. He just lay still on the bed, his eyes closed, refusing to move.

"Playing dead won't change that fact that you fucked up," the demon commented with uncanny insight. The demon could be harsh to the point of cruelty-- but Alfred used to be strong enough to see past his words into his /actions/. Arthur called him weak, but how could it be true if Arthur brought food for Alfred to keep him alive? After a long quiet of no response from Alfred, Arthur forcefully rolled him over and yanked him up by the collar. In Alfred's weakened state and Arthur's replenished one, it was easy to haul the bigger demon around.

Alfred let his body hang limp in Arthur's grasp, slowly he opened his eyes. He kept his head down avoiding Arthur's gaze choosing instead to stare at the other’s chest. With all the strength he could muster Alfred slowly shook his head no, trying to communicate what his voice couldn’t.

"...you're truly going to make me say it, aren't you?" Seething rage threatened under Arthur's quiet question. Arthur's harsh breathing filled in the silence Alfred's answer would have been. "Answer me!" he roared and shook him violently, uselessly. Alfred's head simply swayed lifelessly. 

Angry tears filled the corners of his eyes. His hands shook and fisted tighter into the fabric. "Asshole. Would I do this if I hated you--" the devil clawed the back of Alfred's head and forced him forwards; their mouths crashed together in a bruising kiss. Arthur wasted no time invading Alfred's mouth with his tongue, tilting his head just right so their lips slanted over each other's for the best way to taste each other's mouths.

Alfred's eyes widened in alarm as Arthur slammed their lips together, his mouth opened from the shear shock of the sensation allowing Arthur the entrance he needed to deepen the kiss. Alfred's shock slowly wore off and he closed his eyes as Arthur continued to kiss him, persuading him to participate rather than just sit still like a doll. Slowly Alfred began to kiss back and gently nip at Arthur's lower lip each time the broke away for a moment’s breath of air. As the kiss slowed to a stop Alfred rested his head against Arthur's chest catching his breath. Hot tears began to fall from his eyes as he repeated sorry over and over in his weak scratchy voice the words soon giving way to soft sobs.

Arthur suffered a long, weary sigh as he looked down on his love pressed against his chest. "I'm not a kerchief, Al," he said about the mess Alfred was making on his shirt. "Stop crying," he ordered as he again lifted Alfred's face level with his. Moonlight glistened off the tears tracking down the devil's face, and the hurt in Alfred's eyes echoed back in Arthur's heart. "Stop crying," he repeated more gently.

Alfred's sobs quickly turned into sniffles and he wiped his cheeks and eyes of the tears the covered them. His throat felt raw from use. He tried to swallow, but it only seemed to make it worse so he sat quietly. The post crying hiccups didn’t help his throat any but there wasn’t much Alfred could do to stop them, his eyes were still misty from the tears he shed. He quietly sat waiting for Arthur to say something. Waiting for Arthur to tell him everything would be alright even if it was a lie. Before either of them could even utter a syllable Alfred's stomach interrupted them, demanding nourishment. Alfred looked away bashfully, but noticed the nearly cool corpse and swallowed the saliva that always seemed to come with hunger.

Arthur stayed silent on behalf of Alfred's dignity, but he did quirk a curious eyebrow at Alfred who shied away from him. Well, at least Alfred was feeling better. 

"Go and eat. It's already cold." He tipped his head towards the corpse for emphasis.

Alfred nodded and crawled over to the corpse at the edge of the bed. He bent over the corpse and drank from the already punctured flesh from his neck. The cold blood left a foul taste in his mouth but Alfred was too hungry and weak to be picky. For now he would have to rely on Arthur to hunt for him until he healed up enough to go out again. 

Alfred stopped eating for a moment and looked over at Arthur. What about the kingdom? What was going to happen? Alfred couldn’t play king if he couldn’t speak. Alfred gestured a crown on his head with his hands trying to communicate as best he could but succeeding in only looking ridiculous as he played charades with blood all over his chin.

"I won't even attempt to figure out what you're going on about," he deadpanned, openly choleric at the flimsy attempt at charades. He was sitting cross-legged on the mattress watching Alfred feed. Alfred was usually such a neat eater. "Just do what I say and drink. I'll acquiescent your every curiosity then." A wicked grin curled around his multivocal promise.

Alfred gave Arthur one last look before continuing his meal his tongue feeling very numb as he drank deeply from the girls neck. Some of the blood spilt out of his mouth because he had trouble getting his tongue to remember what swallowing felt like. It was much easier to drink when the blood was from a fresh body or even when Arthur would feed him, there was little mess then because the blood would simply pour down his throat little swallowing even necessary. Alfred sucked out the last few drops of blood he could manage but he was still quite hungry. His hunger may have been from the fact that half of his meal ended up on him and his shirt. Alfred wiped his chin rubbing off only some of the blood that coated it; he licked his hand for the smear of blood that now covered it. 

Arthur clicked his tongue testily. He uncrossed his legs and sat at the edge of the bed, spreading his knees obscenely wide in front of Alfred. With lazy grace he lounged back on his hands and tipped his head back, presenting the pale column of his throat in an open invitation to Alfred. 

In Alfred's blood-starved state, his heightened desperation allowed for him to see the beating pulse on the devil's unblemished skin. 

"You're useless to me dead," he explained nonchalantly in an effort to nullify any ambiguity. But the write-off was a blatant a lie.

Alfred's pupils narrowed predatorily on Arthur's neck at the open invitation. He slowly crawled forward towards Arthur positioning himself above the red-head, even through his hunger hazed mind Alfred paused and looked at Arthur asking for confirmation of the permission he had already been given. When Arthur reclined his head back a bit further, Alfred moved and nuzzled his head right in the crook of Arthur's neck. Alfred gently nipped at the flesh before him gently sucking at it, but not drawing blood. 

Arthur merely closed his eyes and let Alfred have his way for now. Arthur felt the delicate veins under his skin break and bloom to the color of crushed rose petals as Alfred sucked on his neck. If Arthur had to play wet nurse until Alfred gained his confidence over Arthur's body again, he could wait.

Alfred kissed the bruise he had created on Arthur's neck before biting down on the flesh drawing blood. Alfred lightly moaned at the fresh iron like taste in his mouth, he drank deeply but kept Arthur's well being in mind. Alfred gently moved his arm around to rest it against Arthur's other shoulder and moved his hand to cup the back of Arthur's head. He healed the bite on Arthur's neck with the smallest bit of magic before resting his head there. He moved his other arm to wrap itself around the redhead’s thin waist and held him close, enjoying the warm comfort of embracing Arthur without being pushed away.

It ended all too soon. As Alfred resettled himself against Arthur, Arthur blew a lazily sigh into the still air. The tingling aftermath settled throughout his body, and because drinking from each other was a prelude to or during sex, Arthur was charged and ready to go. He wasn't necessarily dissatisfied with Alfred, and he reassured the young demon by holding Alfred close to him.

Alfred rested in the embrace comfortable, full, and very tired. He soon felt his eye lids growing heavy as he began to doze off against Arthur. As he fell asleep the full weight of his body was placed upon Arthur, and soft snores came from the now sleeping demon.

Arthur heaved an exasperated, put-upon sigh. He looked down at Alfred. "Brat," he remarked ruefully at the sleeping demon. "You're damn heavy." When Alfred became completely dead weight, Arthur rolled him off his person and onto the bed. He watched as Alfred, undisturbed and in deep slumber, curled up in comfortably. The demon kicked their dead victim off the bed-- three's a crowd-- and settled back down next to Alfred without touching him. He'll dispose of the body later, but right now he wanted to watch over Alfred to make sure he didn't wake up and do anything stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Will things get better? Will they get worse? Who knows…? Here’s another chapter enjoy lovelies. Reviews are always loved. Until next time, enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

‘More. It’s not enough. I need to be punished more.’ The agonizing burn that slide down his throat made him want to scream in pain but his voice was long lost. The liquid began to slide out of his mouth and down onto his skin lighting a fire at every spot it ghosted over. His vision began to spot itself black as his body tried to prevent him from causing further harm. As he fell to the floor the last thing he saw was pools of red.

Alfred awoke in the late afternoon the next day with a start; he looked around the room with blindly panicked eyes, still mentally reliving his dream and the pain it brought with it.

Their eyes met and Arthur blinked, his lips delicately poised to the rim of a teacup. The older devil was taking his tea by the window overlooking the gardens, but his focus for the last half hour was only on Alfred. The younger devil was acting up in his sleep, and he was just about to wake him when Alfred startled awake on his own. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty." He took a small sip. "Sleep well?"

Alfred took in a few deep shaky breaths he leaned forward and buried his face in his knees trying to calm himself down. Alfred still felt the tingling sensation that hadn’t left his skin since the holy water touched it, but was relieved that it wasn’t the intense agony that he recalled in his dream. Once Alfred had calmed down enough he slowly shook his head to answer Arthur's question, he didn’t bother to try and elaborate because his throat didn’t feel any better so he knew his voice wouldn’t work either.

At length Arthur set the tea down with a careless clatter; much different than his prim-and-proper just before. In an effort not to appear too eager, Arthur briskly crossed the distance to the bed and gingerly sat next to him. He knew Alfred still needed time to heal his body. It was just a matter of time. 

As for Alfred's heart, that was another matter.

And Alfred's recovery relied on Arthur. He knew it did. "It's over, Alfred," he said calmly, awkwardly. He was never good at expressing emotions without masking it under his usual careless cruelty. Alfred was raw, and needed Arthur desperately. He carefully lighted a reassuring hand on the demon's shoulder.

Alfred huffed an attempt at sarcastic laughter; Alfred slowly sat up and looked at Arthur with weary eyes. He wished he could tell Arthur what happened in his dream or try to explain why he just wanted to give up after everything that had happened over the past month. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, he could. Well Arthur could, he had always been better at magic than Alfred. With much excitement Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and placed it on his temple gently patting the side of his head with Arthur's hand.

Arthur, understanding, nodded his head. Whatever his dream was, Arthur trusted it was important enough for Alfred to communicate it to him. He let his hand fall away and shifted closer to Alfred, right up against him. Cupping a hand to the back of Alfred's sweaty hair, he eased Alfred's forehead to rest against his. With their foreheads touch, it bridged a physical gap that allowed them to share energy, which allowed for Alfred to invite Arthur into his thoughts.

Alfred shivered as he felt the pleasant tingle of magic course through him. He slowly shut his eyes and simply enjoyed the connection for a few brief moments before he allowed himself to recall his gruesome dream continuing even as Arthur flinched. Alfred added in more detail telling Arthur how the preceding events came about, what went through his mind during that agonizing period. He thought of nothing but the agony that Arthur had to bear having holy water unwillingly poured upon him. Alfred recalled the feeling of his insides burning as though they were on fire and how the agony lasted an eternity. Even when Alfred had passed out originally from the pain it never left his unconscious mind, all he knew during that time was pain. Alfred was going to explain further but opened his eyes and looked at Arthur questioning when the connection was suddenly lost.

The terror, the agony, the guilt. Arthur could feel it as intensely as if he was sharing Alfred's skin. Arthur explored Alfred's memories back from the time of Lucifer's ultimatum months ago to Alfred's attempt last night to take his life in payment Arthur's suffering. Inside Alfred's head Arthur felt more than heard the younger devil narrate what happened while Arthur was imprisoned, how difficult it was for him to carry on the charade after he released Arthur, and the impact it made on him that ultimately led him to attempt suicide. It was too much. Arthur had to flinch away. He bowed his head and averted his face from Alfred's scrutiny. He didn't want the younger devil seeing the conflict agonizing his mind. It was so hard to see Alfred as the villain when the devil suffered just as much as he did. They were both victims in this.

Alfred's expression softened as he slowly realized how much Arthur probably saw outside of the simple show Alfred played out for him. He slowly reached a hand out and placed it on Arthur's shoulder giving it a gently squeeze. Alfred moved his hand so that it was under Arthur's chin and gently lifted Arthur's head so that Alfred could look at him. A soft smile sat on his face; it held a hint of sadness and also understanding. He leaned forward and gently kissed the scarred skin of Arthur's chin as a silent apology. He leaned their foreheads together once more to communicate in a few short sentences to the best his magic would allow him. “I’m sorry. I love you. You don’t have to forgive me.”

"I know," he whispered with his eyes closed. He believed Alfred. In accord to Lucifer's malicious deal, in a twisted way Alfred was protecting Arthur. Things would never be the same, but at least they had the chance to pave the way to a new beginning. Freedom. "This illusion of taking over the Suit kingdoms. We are only able to do it because it is permissible to Master. Everything we've done in Suits was effectually sanctioned by Him."

Alfred nodded his head in acknowledgement of Arthur's statement and slowly shrugged his shoulders. He placed his head to Arthur's again concentrating deeper this time, “Hasn’t everything we’ve ever been given an illusion of freedom? We have never been truly free and we never will be.” Alfred sat back and braced himself with his hands dizzy from using so much magic while he was still healing.

Arthur was tired of it. He didn't want to be ruled under His thumb any longer. "What can we do?" he said with uncharacteristic hopelessness. Alfred attempted a whole revolution, but the Angels betrayed him in the end. Alfred-- and Arthur-- were too amusing for Him to ever leave alone. Arthur had no answers and didn't hope to find any, either. "Sleep. You've stupidly exhausted yourself already." The devil forced Alfred to lay down. Arthur joined Alfred, snug against the larger demon with his head on Alfred’s shoulder.

Alfred turned his head to the side and placed a kiss upon Arthur's forehead and nuzzled his head against Arthur’s. Before settling down and resting his eyes at Arthur's command, exhaustion soon won over any form of thought and soon Alfred's breathing slowed to soft snores. 

Well. This was familiar. Arthur settled against Alfred until the young devil's breathing evened into a peaceful repose. Arthur waited until he was confident Alfred was deep asleep before leaving. He had appearances to keep up, and that meant serving on behalf of the King, as well. Alfred was definitely more cut out for mundane bureaucracy. If it was up to Arthur, every peasant or nobleman alike would simply be delegated to the gallows no matter what their complaint was. It was boring to hold court and deliver justice the "peaceful" way. He did send a few to their deaths; holding prisoners was a waste of resources that could be invested into the war effort against Clubs. 

He had disposed of the dead girl before he left, so the room was bare of damnable evidence when Arthur returned to Alfred's chambers after a hot bath. "Are you awake, Alfred? It's been an entire ten hours since I left." Arthur flung his dressing gown on the floor and climbed into bed with Alfred. Seeing Alfred still asleep, he pinched the younger devil's nose to block the air flow.

Alfred floundered for breath for a moment before waking up and swatting Arthur's hand away groaning in annoyance at being awoken. He slowly blinked open his eyes and caught sight of the red head in all his bare bodied glory. Alfred slowly raised one of his eyebrows in a questioning gesture but soon shook his head deciding Arthur's nakedness wasn’t worth questioning. The faint smell of soap the hung about Arthur reminded Alfred that he should take a bath as well it would to his tender skin well to ensure no residue of the holy water was left on it. Alfred brought himself out of his thought when Arthur cleared his throat grabbing Alfred's attention.

"Don't ignore me," he growled, crouching onto his haunches. His eyes drew dark with intent. "Remember your debt owed to me." Arthur smirked, dispelling the sudden solemnity, but not entirely.

Alfred's face dropped as he realized what Arthur meant judging by his lack of clothing and devious smirk. He slowly lifted his arm to cover his eyes and brought his legs up from under the sheets only to let them fall apart waiting for Arthur to get on with it. Alfred didn’t really want to do this but as Arthur said he was in the redhead’s debt, so he had no choice but to obey.

Arthur pursed his lips unhappily. "/Pretend/ to like it, at the very least." Arthur didn't necessarily mean /that/ (not that it hadn't crossed his mind). Alfred was so damn preoccupied with his angst Arthur was beginning to consider it the Other Woman. "You look like a beast performing tricks for his master," he groused bitterly. And how different would it be? Alfred had lost any real will to be anything but Arthur's slave.

Alfred lay still not seeing or really paying attention to Arthur, just simple submission it was easier that way. He loved Arthur and understood Arthur had every right to be mad at him to punish him. Alfred would willingly let Arthur hurt him if it made the other feel better. Alfred let his mind begin to wonder and tell him cruel evil things, he didn’t even realize tears were building up in his eyes until his arm began to feel wet.

Several moments passed where nothing was said or done. For the first time in a long time Arthur felt old, very old. Creatures like he were not supposed to be worn down by grief and loss. "Alfred," he said reverently, as if chanting his name. It took a long time for Arthur to muster the energy to go on. "When are you coming back?" He being himself to look at this-- imposer. This was /not/ his Alfred.

Alfred didn’t even attempt to communicate with Arthur, there was no way he could explain the horrifying experience of having to torture and torment one you loved just to protect them. There was no way of explaining the small chips and cracks that his heart took every time Arthur had acted as though Alfred was a monster. There was no way Alfred could even try to explain how broken he was without Arthur having been there in his mind the entire way, not even telepathy could explain the way he felt. Alfred rolled over onto his side wincing as his elbow hit a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

When Alfred finally worked up enough nerve to force words from his injured raspy throat all he could utter was, “He’s dead.”

There were no words to describe the rage crawling under his skin searching to tear itself out. It would be like Arthur to lash out at the target of his ire, victim be damned. But he couldn't. The devil was beginning to truly understand the suffering Alfred was going through. He read Alfred's thoughts and relived his memories, but he didn't understand what it /meant/. And he never would know, not truly. That was why Arthur was unfair and unkind to Alfred... despite his best intentions. 

"He's not dead." He pulled Alfred's limp arm away revealing Alfred's anguished face. "He's still there. You just need to bring him back." Looking at the younger demon's face, Arthur could tell he neither believed him nor cared if it was true. "Be strong. If not for yourself, be strong for me." Arthur hesitated but went on, "Because I hate this new you. I want the demon I love back. Bring him back to me."

Love. Alfred startled at the word and was sure the shock showed on his face. Arthur had never said it before; it had always been there in the gentle caresses and midnight kisses, but never in words. Arthur loved him? No, he didn’t love him, he loved who Alfred used to be. The cocky, young demon that wasn’t afraid to take on the world and its trials. Could Alfred go back to that? After all he had experience over the past months? It seemed nigh impossible, but for Arthur he could try. He owed it to him to at least try. 

“I’ll try.” He croaked as he rubbed the tears off his cheeks. He tried to put his old Cheshire cat grin on his face, but it felt strained. He was sure it looked strained as well, but it was a start.

"That's a start." Arthur nodded at the poor excuse for a grin. "A for effort." Arthur flashed that crooked grin of his and burrowed under the covers with Alfred. He thought better about chastising Alfred about crying. It wasn't like Arthur hadn't cried countless times for Alfred, either.

Alfred pulled the covers up to his chin and wrapped his arms around Arthur ignoring the slight sting the pressure caused. He nuzzled his face in the redhead’s hair before placing a soft kiss on his head. If it was for Arthur, Alfred could try. He could try to become normal again; starting tomorrow he had to snap out of his depression. It wasn’t fair to bring Arthur down with him. So long as he had someone there who loved and cared for him he owed it to them to get better, if not for himself then for them.

Arthur curled up against Alfred like it was the most natural thing. And for a routine that occurred hundreds of years, it practically was. 

They were going to prove that their love for each other was stronger than their hate for their master. Arthur was determined to see it through. He said as much to Alfred who was half asleep in his arms. Starting tomorrow, they would work on being the best they could be for each other.


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred awoke early the next morning from another nightmare; he looked around quickly taking in his surroundings reminding himself it was just a dream. He looked at Arthur, who was still curled up asleep in his arms, and took a deep calming breath before gentle getting out of bed making sure not to wake the redhead. He was still quite shaky on his legs but managed to stumble over to the large glass doors that connected to his balcony. It wasn’t yet dawn but the gently lightening of the sky told Alfred it was soon approaching.

Alfred looked down at the night clothes Arthur had most likely put him in after his suicide attempt, ever so gently he removed his top hissing quietly every time he brushed over a sensitive part of his skin. He looked at his reflection in the window its lightly marred skin only showed the external damage that had occurred. If his throat was anything to go by he was sure his internal organs must be in even worse shape. The blood that Arthur had been giving him was helping, but every ounce of him still hurt.

Alfred looked back at Arthur's sleeping form and decided to take a quick bath. He took a few shaky steps towards the bell that would summon a servant to his chambers and pulled the string a few times. He quickly put on the bath robe that was draped over the back of his lounge chair and used it to hide his injured body and wings. Taking a deep breath he summoned up what little magic he could and hid his demonic features. By the time he made himself presentable a quiet knock came from the door.

Alfred made his way over tripping a few times; he opened the door and was greeted by one of the maids. He croaked out, “bath,” and the maid bowed and set off to prepare the bathing chambers. Alfred made his way slowly back to the bed sitting down next to Arthur and watched him sleep. Alfred gently brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen in Arthur's face and smiled gently when it fell right back.

Arthur's face soured in his sleep. A sleepy hand limply swatted the hand away. Arthur turned his face into the pillow, but after a few moments peeked his eyes out at the younger devil. Foggy from sleep, the devil nevertheless had enough energy to be cross. "I told you not to wake me up when I'm sleeping," he growled darkly. Like his usual threats, it had no bite-- he was just bitching, as usual. The older devil flopped onto his back. He yawned ungracefully, stretching out his limbs all the way to his toes. He heard the servants preparing the bath, but he didn't bother changing to his human visage. "Go and bathe." He prodded Alfred with his heel. "I'll join you in a bit."

Alfred nodded and stood upon hearing the tapping of feet headed towards his door. He walked over to the door after he heard the soft knocking; he tripped over Arthur's discarded nightgown and nearly face planted into the door before catching himself. Alfred turned toward Arthur and grinned, waving his hands in front of his to signal he was okay, before turning back and opening the door to take his bath. 

Arthur shook his head woefully. Idiot. He dozed for a few minutes, his peace broken only by the calm sound of splashing water. Slowly he pulled himself from the bed and drudged over, naked, to the bathing chamber. Alfred had shooed the servants away having no interest being bathed by others (and anticipating Arthur's joining him). He figured Alfred was clean by now. When Alfred scooted back to make room, Arthur slipped into the bath with a pleasured sigh. He propped an ankle by Alfred's head and relaxed against the porcelain.

Alfred played with the bath bubbles a bit longer before he noticed Arthur resting his eyes while enjoying the heat of the water relaxing his body. Alfred waited until Arthur had just closed his eyes before splashing the redhead’s face with a cup full of water. Alfred gently bit his lip to keep from laughing (though he was failing miserably as his raspy laughter bubbled past his lips) as Arthur sputtered in angry shock.

Arthur sputtered and choked on a few more bubbles than was probably safe. He swallowed wrong and miserably hacked up soapy water. His eyes darted up hearing that laugh and all bets were off. Without warning or a snide remark, Arthur smashed his foot in Alfred's shoulder with such force it could have crushed a mortal's diaphragm. As it was, the bathtub barely held up. "Very cute," he managed between hacks.

Alfred gasped out in pain quickly removing Arthur's foot from his shoulder covering the overly sensitive skin with his hand. A few tears came to Alfred's eyes but he refused to let them fall regardless of the pain he was in. Alfred took a few deep breaths trying to will away the pain before looking up at Arthur. “Jerk.” He rasped out while wearing a pained grin.

"--oh." He'd forgotten about Alfred injuries. "W-well, it's your fault for provoking me!" But Alfred was still reeling from the blow and looked even more hurt, if that was possible. "Shit. Fuck." With a loud splash Arthur stood on his knees and hovered over Alfred helplessly, wanting to do something but too worried about aggravating his wounds. He felt very much like a flailing idiot right then.

He settled for touching Alfred face and turning his chin to look at him. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He put his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Anyway, that reminds me." Arthur tapped his neck right over his own pulse point. "You need more to heal yourself. And no complaints," he warned.

Alfred sighed but did as he was told. He gently pulled Arthur down to sit on his lap, tilting Arthur's head to the side. He gently kissed Arthur's neck before biting down, he moaned as the hot blood rushed over his tongue. His arms wrapped themselves around Arthur's body holding him close as Alfred drank deeply from his neck. 

Arthur stroked Alfred's hair, signaling that he was fine and Alfred could continue. Before retiring to Alfred's chambers last night, Arthur had dined again on another poor, innocent soul. While Arthur was toeing the line into reckless behavior, he was eating for two now. He had to drink enough to both sustain himself and Alfred. "Drink as much as you like, love," he cooed into Alfred's ear. He smirked when Alfred's arms only tightened. This was the most life he had seen out of Alfred for days.

Alfred gently stroked Arthur's back slowly moving his fingers over each vertebra as he drank his fill of Arthur's blood. Once he was satiated he gently licked the puncture marks on Arthur's neck watching them quickly heal over leaving no trace of his bite behind. Alfred kissed Arthur's neck again before looking up in Arthur's eyes. He smiled sweetly at the redhead and gently placing a brief kiss on the other’s lips.

Despite his smirk, he still managed to purse his lips against Alfred's. He slunk into Alfred's lap, cradling Alfred's hips between his legs. He draped his arms around Alfred's neck and kissed him properly, slow and languid with a bit of tongue. Tided over for now, Arthur leaned back against his side of the bathtub again and grinned at Alfred's reaction.

A light blush dusted Alfred's cheeks that he would blame on the blood he just drank not Arthur's sudden deep kiss. Alfred rolled his eyes at Arthur's grin and slowly slunk down under the water until nothing but the top of his head from his nose up and his knees were above the water. He closed his eyes and relaxed enjoying the full feeling in his stomach and the warm water soothing his aching skin.

Arthur's lips pursed unhappily as Alfred stretched out. It ate away at his space and forced him to either surrender and share or take it back by sitting on top of him. He sat on top of him. He shook his head at Alfred's ridiculousness but said nothing. He took the bar of lye and began cleaning himself-- might as well use this time for his daily wash up.

Alfred wiggled his toes that were now trapped under Arthur's rear and slowly opened one eye to see what Arthur was doing that would require his feet to be used as a cushion. Upon seeing Arthur lather himself down with soap Alfred shrugged and closed his eyes again. He periodically wiggled his feet to prevent them from going numb. Alfred soon began to lightly doze off keeping his nose just barely above water, trusting Arthur to watch after him if something were to happen.

Arthur chucked the soap and finger-combed his clean hair out of his face. He lounged deep in the tub, slipping his bottom between Alfred's knees and stretching with his feet at either side of Alfred. Alfred lay similar to Arthur with his legs on the outside of Arthur's. Arm's lounge comfortably across the bathtub rim, the older demon watched Alfred lazily. "I probably shouldn't be surprised that you use lavender oil in your bath water."

Alfred chuckled lightly only half asleep slowly bringing his face fully out of the water. “Smells good.” He voice sounded like he had a frog in his throat, it was still rough but it didn’t hurt as much to speak now. Alfred had been concentrating on healing his throat the most; speeding up the process with as much magic he could muster in his weakened state. Alfred was lucky to have Arthur while he was healing most demons would have left their allies for dead if they had found them in the state Alfred was in. Arthur was stubborn and cranky, but he cared about Alfred. It was not a common or well accepted notion for demons to be caring for each other, in hell it was a dog eat dog world, Alfred enjoyed being in this kingdom it gave him more room to be affectionate towards Arthur without receiving the hateful glares of the people around him. 

Alfred sighed thinking back on what he had done to Arthur. He had acted as coldly as any other demon, but unlike the other demons Alfred constantly felt guilty about what he did. It wasn’t natural, but then again when had Alfred ever acted like a normal demon? Alfred leaned his head back against the rim of the bath tub and heaved another sigh trying to get his mind off such depressing subjects. The more he thought about them the harder it was to act like his old self.

Arthur saw the thoughts play through his head clearly as day. "You probably won't get over it," he said eventually when Alfred sighed in resignation. "But it will get better." The fiery-red demon pushed off the tub again and settled into Alfred's lap. "Are my words not enough?" he flashed a subdued smirk. "Shall I give a better pitch?" he whispered and he leered over the demon, slipping his arms around his neck and settling his full weight on top of Alfred. Alfred’s recovery depended on Arthur's forgiveness, he knew that. Only one way to expedite the process. Arthur kissed Alfred.

Alfred hummed in approval, enjoying the feeling of Arthur's lips. Slowly he slipped his hands down to hold Arthur's hips rubbing gently circles with his thumbs. His skin prickled at the pressure of Arthur's weight on him but he ignored the gentle sting in favor of greater pleasure. Alfred nipped at Arthur's lower lip asking for entrance that he was soon granted, Alfred smirked as he deepened the kiss gently overpowering Arthur even though he knew Arthur could have easily beaten him if the redhead so desired. The kiss started out slow but grew more heated as Arthur's impatience began to show.

Arthur let Alfred lead the kiss for now, knowing he would inevitably have his way. The feel of his soft, warm tongue massaging his was well-missed. He had been half-hard for a while and sitting on Alfred's lap, feeling him knead his skin was enough to set his senses on fire. It had been too long. The last time was the half-assed job over Francis's corpse on the Diamonds throne. He leaned forwards, effectively pinning Alfred with his weight.

Alfred flinched at the extra pressure but didn’t say anything otherwise, too absorbed in the long missed sensation of Arthur's body intermingling with his. He broke the kiss in favor of biting and sucking on Arthur's neck drawing out the same bruises that he always did no matter how many years past. Alfred lowered his hands so that he was kneading Arthur's ass while gently nipping at Arthur's throat.

Arthur took him by his hair and yanked his mouth away from his neck. His lips descended on Alfred's, grueling and harsh, hardly a kiss but a display of dominance and power. Arthur rocked onto his knees, forcing Alfred to stretch his neck uncomfortably vertical as the kiss went on. The grip on Alfred's face was vice-like in his hands, nail indenting into the skin where he gripped too hard. Their lips crushed together, their teeth clashed painfully and still Arthur went on.

Alfred groaned in both pain and pleasure as Arthur violently kissed him. His fingers dug deeper into Arthur's rear leaving crushed-rose colored bruises all over the redhead’s pale skin. Alfred relaxed his grip enough to slip one hand over to the base of Arthur's tail and began playing with it switching between pumps and strokes. He tried to get Arthur to let off the pressure the redhead was placing on his skin as the pain was starting to outweigh the pleasure.

Arthur moaned into the kiss, his tail flicking in earnest now as Alfred toyed with the base-- his most sensitive spot on his tail. He rewarded Alfred by finally letting Alfred break free. Alfred was a panting mess, and Arthur watched as he slicked his tongue over his sharp incisors. "That pretty mouth of yours," he leered as Alfred continued panting open-mouthed. He cupped the back of his head again, gentler, and guided him to his cock, wet and hard as a rock. "Let's put it to better use, hm?"

Alfred swallowed wincing slight at the pain in his throat, though it had healed quite a bit over the past few days it was still raw and hurt him to do anything more than breathe and drink blood. Alfred bit his lip gently before taking the shaft of Arthur's cock in his hand he slowly began to pump his hand up and down. Alfred swallowed once more before putting the tip of Arthur's cock in his mouth tears welled up in Alfred's eyes but he ignored them. Slowly he began to bob his head in time with his hand, pain shot through the back of Alfred's throat he fought against it for a few moments before his tore his head away from Arthur and began coughing violently, the spasms racking his whole body. A small splatter of blood landed on the rim of the tub from the tearing of Alfred's delicately healed throat that was still coated in enflamed tissue and blisters.

The abrupt flow of cold air to his abandoned cock made Arthur gasp. He looked down, irked and confused, but when he saw Alfred's pained face he immediately regretted it. "A-Alfred," he began in a flounder, not knowing what to do and wanting badly to amend it. He kneeled back into the water and cupped his face after the other stopped coughing. "I got ahead of myself." He made sure Alfred looked him in the eyes. "I... ah... sorry." Alfred's erection had wilted, and he looked down in disappointment-- at himself, not Alfred. He was determined to salvage things. There was no way he was going to retreat with his tail between his legs. "Let me have a go at it," he grinned reassuringly and settled Alfred up higher against the rim. He grasped Alfred's half-hard cock, and instead of warming it up again with his hand, he immediately descending on it with his mouth.

Alfred gasped at the sudden warmth that surrounded his cock; he flinched at the pain the sudden inhale of air caused to his throat. Alfred soon felt his erection growing hard again as Arthur continued to suck him. “Ah-“ Alfred leaned over Arthur holding onto the other’s shoulders, he felt his face heat up with pleasure.

An amused hum thrummed at the back of his throat, further stimulating Alfred's cock as the head hit the back of his throat. It had been a long time, but he got back in the swing of things fast, and soon he was deep-throating Alfred as skillfully and as enthusiastically as times past. He grabbed Alfred by the balls and gently tugged on them, alternating with soothing circle massages and back to pulling.

Alfred panted and whined under Arthur's hands and mouth, he rasped out gasps every time the pleasure spiked. “Ah!” Alfred began to pat Arthur's back repeatedly trying to signal to his that he was about to cum. Arthur continued through Alfred forcing his raspy voice to work half-heartedly asking Arthur to stop, “Stop- Ah! Cu- cumming- Ah!” 

Arthur gave one last hard suck from the root to the tip. He hollowed out his cheeks and dragged his lips over the silken hardness for the last time before Alfred spilled into his mouth. He sat back on his heels and opened his mouth, letting Alfred's spend stream into his mouth and over his lips. Alfred's release was long and far overdo, and it took several pumps of his fist until Alfred was milked dry. As Alfred caught his breath Arthur sat up, and Alfred caught sight of that damn smirk drooling with Alfred's spend. "Lick it off."

Once he caught his breath Alfred leaned forward grasping the sides of Arthur's face in his hands. He slowly ran his tongue from Arthur's chin to his mouth cleaning off the sticky residue that had spotted Arthur's face. Between licks Alfred would gently kiss and nip Arthur's lips until his face was clean of Alfred's cum. Alfred kissed Arthur's lips once more before resting his forehead on Arthur's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the redhead’s chest and heaving a heavy tired sigh.

"Poor baby," Arthur cooed while petting his limp, damp hair. The sweat at Alfred's temples and hairline diluted with the bathwater, and Alfred looked more like a drowned rat than a glossy-wet incubus Arthur so often likened him to. They held each other for a time, simply content in each other's arms. He let Alfred doze; though it wasn't what humans termed "proper" to take a nap in the tub and ignore one's royal duties, Arthur wasn't about to hold Alfred to a standard he didn't even adhere to. Besides that, it was quite... nice. It wasn't unusual for the couple cuddled after sex. In fact, it was quite common despite Arthur's half-assed bitching, Alfred understood as the older devil saving face in light or participating in very un-demon-like behavior. 

"It's amazing, really. How much you changed me." He rested his chin on top of Alfred's head. "Before I met you, my infamy for destruction and cruelty was unmatched. I was even feared by fellow peers." He huffed a laugh at his choice of words for them. He never saw them as equals. Closing his eyes, he gave life to a sigh that was one of more happiness than sadness. "My treasure."

Alfred smiled nuzzling his head in the crook of Arthur's neck half asleep already. “Love you.” He croaked out placing a gentle kiss on Arthur's neck as his body couldn’t be persuaded to actually sit up due to the exhaustion that overtook him after he climaxed. Alfred fought against a yawn but lost his head growing heavy on Arthur's shoulder. “Bed.” Alfred mumbled the word so mutilated by both his sleepiness and voice that was near unintelligible.

"No," Arthur grunted as he straightened Alfred. "You're going to play king and relieve me of picking up your slack." Arthur rose out of the tub and stepped out, carelessly soaking the floor. Before he disappeared from the room, he leaned back inside the door frame. He smiled, a flash of sharp teeth. "Be good and I'll let you snack off me later." Then he left.

Alfred grimaced at the idea of having to work while his body was still quite weak, but acknowledge Arthur had been working hard with the war effort and other such problems while Alfred had been resting. Alfred sighed and pulled himself out of the bath grabbing a towel but not bothering to dry off as he walked slowly back to his chambers to get dressed for a day sure to be filled with petty complaints. Looking towards the window Alfred noticed it was left open meaning Arthur had gone off to hunt again. It was risky hunting so frequently, but Alfred needed the blood to heal quickly. It was a risk they both had to take and Alfred could at least due his best to distract from the queen’s absence. 

Alfred put on his clothes wincing as the uncomfortable tightness of the fabric pressed against his still very sore skin. Once he was ready Alfred slowly made his way to his study to review the schedule of the day, wincing every time his injuries were aggravated. Alfred sighed it was going to be a very long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey everyone how was your Thanksgiving? Mine was crazy busy, anyways here’s the next chapter. Smut and fluff galore! Hope you enjoy :) Please rate and review. Till next time.


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur did not return until daybreak. He hunted, yes, but he needed time to meditate on the last few months. Much had changed. It was revealed that their master had set his sights on their unusual relationship from the beginning. At the expense of His fancies, it cost Alfred his love for Arthur in favor for death. A shell remained of the young demon Alfred once was. Lucifer's cruelty had almost broken Arthur, too, but the fiery redhead refused to surrender. He hadn't known Alfred to break so easily, but then again, Arthur had never been the price Alfred had to pay. 

To Alfred's knowledge, at least.

Arthur's torment was Alfred's punishment once before. It was after the young demon's pitiable rebellion that Alfred's memory and powers were wiped, and he was cast into the corporeal realm in the guise of a human prince. Until Arthur's release, Alfred's knowledge and powers remained dormant until he exposed him for what he was; the little rebel devil-turned pet experiment.

Up until this point, everything was planned. Not anymore-- Arthur would see to it that they escaped from their master. He needed Alfred's cooperation, but didn't believe Alfred was ready for it. He wondered if Alfred would ever be ready. Arthur suspected the suicide attempt was just a drop in the vast sea of torment and guilt. Alfred might never recover. 

Alfred had to try. He /had/ to. Or he never loved Arthur as much as he said he did. Arthur would accept that Alfred sought refuge in death because he couldn't live with hurting Arthur, but if Alfred would not try to survive for the sake of what could be salvaged between them, Alfred's love for Arthur was simply too weak. Arthur saw it no other way.

Having sensed Alfred's presence in the drawing room, Arthur slipped in from the open window as silently as a whisper. Alfred did not notice his new company having shut down his high extra sensory functioning in favor in recovering his basic needs. Arthur crept behind him, folding his hands behind his person. "Some demon you are. Letting a dangerous entity into your company," he demon teased.

Alfred jumped startled by Arthur's sudden presence beside him causing him to spill ink all over the documents on his desk. Alfred turned and glared in annoyance at Arthur, but couldn’t bring himself to stay mad for long since he had half convinced himself that Arthur wasn’t coming back since he had been gone for so long. Alfred quickly picked up what papers could be salvaged and rung for a servant to clean up the rest.

Alfred grabbed onto one of Arthur's arms and began to lead him towards his private chambers his throat and skin burning after a full day of work. As soon as Alfred had the door shut behind him he was on top of Arthur kissing and nipping at the side of the redhead’s throat not daring to draw blood until given permission.

"My, someone's missed me," he mused distractedly, tilting his head this way and that for the most optimal attention to his neck. "Or my blood, I should say." He exposed the column of his white neck, pulse beating wildly in anticipation underneath the skin. "Go on, then."

Alfred didn’t allow time for more thought as he plunged his fang’s into the pale skin of Arthur's neck drinking quickly barely allowing himself time to enjoy the taste. He drank greedily trying to satiate the thirst that nearly overwhelmed him while he worked around the humans during the day. He clung desperately to Arthur as he picked him up and took him over to the bed. 

Alfred began to slow down his pace once he placed Arthur down on the bed, gently licking the puncture wounds shut. Once the blood flow stopped Alfred chastely kissed Arthur, even if he knew Arthur had (for the most part) forgiven him he still didn’t want to anger the redhead into leaving him. Alfred was much too dependent on Arthur's acceptance and presence to be able to function without; the mere thought scared him worse than any horror ever could.

Arthur writhed against Alfred until the very last drop passed Alfred's hungry mouth. He arched into the kiss and followed Alfred as he pulled back. He then lay back down, silently regarding Alfred with lidded eyes. "Feeling better?"

Alfred flopped over to his side nodding a tired yes accented with a big yawn. He cuddled up against Arthur, pulling the redhead up onto his side and placed their foreheads together so that he could communicate without aggravating his already aching throat. ‘See anything interesting out there? You were gone for a long time.’

‘Indeed, I have,’ Arthur communicated back in a sobering tone. ‘Ivan plans to strike. He suspects it was us behind the assassination of Diamonds' Royals.’ Arthur's eyes were the color of absinthe, bright with anger. ‘We must stop him before he allies with Hearts.’

Alfred grimaced he figured Ivan would suspect them he may be very childish but Ivan was wise beyond his years, even when compared to Alfred's two hundred years. ‘Then let’s just kill the rest of the royals and be done with it. The longer this drags on the uglier it’s going to get.’

Arthur smoothly slid his leg over Alfred's thigh and twined his ankle with Alfred's. "How dare Ivan implicate us," he huffed ironically. Then, he rolled on top of Alfred so he was belly-down facing him. "Once we take over every country in Suits, it won't matter who knew the truth." To bring his point home, he kissed his lover, slow and firm.

Alfred hummed in agreement before he opened his mouth deepening the kiss. He slowly moved his hands so that they rested on Arthur's ass; he kneaded the flesh gently as their tongues danced about each other’s mouths. Alfred pressed down on Arthur's pelvis as he rolled his hips up to meet causing pleasurable friction.

A smirk grew wide against Alfred's lips. Arthur ground his hips against Alfred's on the crest of every thrust. As their groins friction together, his breath caught feeling the size of Alfred grow. He was already feeling himself weep pre-cum through his undergarments. It had been so long. He wanted Alfred to take back his control and urgency. He wanted to restore the normalcy in their relationship, with Alfred dominating Arthur and Arthur letting him. There was only so much that could be communicated through words; forgiveness had to be felt through the body, too. 

Arthur tore his mouth away with a gasp. His face was flush with want, his eyes dark with desire. He fisted Alfred's hair and jerked his head back. He couldn't help himself; Alfred's pale, unblemished neck was too tempting. He descended on Alfred, and as the younger devil's skin broke, blood poured forth into Arthur's waiting mouth. He drained a mouthful's worth before pulling back and swallowing with relish. His eyes rolled into the back of his head feeling Alfred's essence slide down his throat. Having swiped his saliva against the puncture wound before pulling back, Arthur watched Alfred's wound immediately close up without a drop of blood out of place. The demon giggled, swiping his tongue across the row of his teeth for show. "Couldn't help myself."

He sat back properly and rocked into Alfred's lap as if he were riding him. He pressed Alfred's palm firmly against his hardness, molding his fingers around his erection. "Feel how hard I am," he moaned, and then he chuckled under his breath.

Alfred huffed a breathy laugh at how needy Arthur acted, as he palmed Arthur's clothed erection. He slowly took his hand away in favor of unbuttoning Arthur's shirt preferring the sight of the pale skin over any type of clothing. Once the offensive piece of clothing was removed Alfred pulled Arthur down into a chaste kiss before ordering hoarsely in Arthur’s ear, “Take them off,” as he gently tugged on Arthur's trousers.

His smiled turned wicked before standing up over him. Alfred lay on his back between Arthur legs as Arthur stared down at him importantly. Planting his foot on Alfred's shoulder, Arthur had the young devil pinned to the bed. "What do I get in return?" As if the intent wasn't obvious enough, Arthur unabashedly palmed his erection through his trousers.

Alfred looked up at Arthur a devious smirk grew across his face speaking Alfred's silent words, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ Alfred slipped his hand up Arthur's trousers, gently caressing Arthur’s leg before dragging his nails down it leaving light scratch marks down the redhead’s calf. 

The devil popped open the trouser buttons and let gravity do the rest. His trousers slipped off his bony hips and pooled around his knees. Of course, he wasn't wearing undergarments. When Alfred reached up to strip him properly, Arthur forced him back down. "Stay right there." He dug his heel in and twisted. "I like this look very much," he chuckled; enjoying Alfred sprawled on his back underneath him. Satisfied Alfred would be good for now, he shucked off the trousers and kicked them over the side of the bed. Something knocked over, but he didn't care to look. His eyes were all on Alfred. 

Arthur dropped to his knees and pulled Alfred back by the hair. When Alfred cried out in pain, he covered the younger devil's mouth with his own and swallowed up his protests. The angle was perfect for kissing (for Arthur, at least) and the violence was gone as quickly as it came. Fingers that were unrelenting as steel seconds ago smoothed through Alfred's ebony hair like silk. The way Arthur kissed Alfred was reverent and all-encompassing; to anyone watching, there was nothing else Arthur would rather do than be here at this very moment.

Alfred moaned into the kiss, he could feel his face heating up from the passionate intensity as their tongues danced together. He ran his hands along Arthur's sides and down his legs and back up again enjoying the softness of Arthur's perfect skin, not even the slight scarring around the redhead’s mouth could take away from his ethereal beauty. Alfred slowly maneuvered his hand in between them and began to stroke Arthur's cock with one hand and gently trace the base of Arthur's tail with his other.

Arthur's tail, sensitive as a cat's, went taut inside Alfred's strong fist. It made his eyes flutter back into his head, and his mouth parted wide to suck in more air. With the way Alfred stroked Arthur's cock he wasn't going to last long. Arthur abruptly clutched Alfred's wrist and jerked it away. He wasn't ready to come just yet. He looked at Alfred's face; it was so appetizing; he just wanted to fuck it and let Alfred re-acquaint himself with his gag reflex. Some other time.

This was more than fucking. It was digging up their love amongst the dregs of hopelessness that almost destroyed them. Once, Arthur thought retribution was the only way out of his hell with Alfred, and once Alfred thought his life was only worth recompensing Arthur's pain. Arthur wanted to hurt Alfred twice-fold; and he would have, somehow, had he not learned of Lucifer's machinations. It turned out that Alfred did the best that he could within the parameters he was given: break Arthur or he perishes. Every betrayal, every hell Alfred inflicted on Arthur, killed the younger demon inside. And yet, he was always thinking of Arthur.

Arthur's hand was feather-light as he stroked Alfred's face. He spoke just as gently. “It's not your fault.” He added a chaste kiss. “I wouldn't love you if it was.” Then he coughed into his fist, thoroughly mortified with what he just said. A blush exploded on his face and neck, but before Alfred could react to it he forced another kiss on him.

Alfred's eyes widened slightly at the sudden kiss, but soon smiled into the kiss wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist gently stroking Arthur's sides until the redhead had calmed down enough to look at him. Alfred pressed their foreheads together figuring what he had to say would sound better without the raspy voice. ‘I know you wouldn’t. But still, thank you for forgiving me. Even if I don’t think I deserve it. You are more than I ever deserved, and I still can’t manage to ensure your safety or happiness. Still, I love you. No matter what happens from here on out, never doubt that.’ Alfred pulled back and smiled at Arthur before gently peppering the redhead’s face with kisses.

Arthur fended off the offending kisses by batting Alfred away. "Don't mock me," he frowned, not understanding (or believing) how serious Alfred was. That kind of talk scared him. It wasn't appropriate for their kind and instead it was something an angel would say. Now that he thought of it, Alfred and Arthur breached formalities long before they even had sex. Alfred managed to force his way into Arthur's heart before he had the chance to notice and resist. Alfred was the beginning of the end for Arthur... and Arthur never looked back. 

But it still frightened him. 

"I think you've been decent for long enough." The older devil slinked off Alfred and began taking his clothes off. He relieved Alfred of his clothes piece by piece, his tail flicking as his eyes feasted on the younger devil’s nakedness. He had seen Alfred's scars before, and they were devastating because of what happened, but Arthur was neither ashamed of Alfred nor disgusted.

Arthur mounted him again. He smoothed his hands over Alfred's bare chest and marveled at the definition and line of his muscles. He smirked. "You're still so weak from deprivation and injury. I have no choice but to spoil you."

“Is that so?” Alfred rasped out, challenging Arthur with an amused grin. It had been far too long since they last held each other and it was far too obvious how eager Arthur was to get on with it. Alfred pulled Arthur down again pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, before pulling the redhead’s ear close to his mouth and whispering, “Then get on with it.”

"Cheeky bastard," he commented distractedly as he reached over to the nightstand and rummaged for the oil. Tonight he'd rather take it slow and savor Alfred than have it hard and rough. He penetrated himself on his hands and knees above Alfred, making quick work of warming himself up while giving Alfred an eyeful. Satisfied, he pulled out his fingers and grabbed Alfred's dick behind him. He made sure Alfred was watching as he sat back and eased Alfred inside of him.

Alfred groaned at the heat that surrounded his cock, it had been months since they last were with each other like this. The pleasure was almost enough to make him cum on the spot; his self restraint barely prevented him from doing so. Letting his head fall back against the pillow, he closed his eyes savoring the mix of pain and pleasure that coursed through his tired body. 

His skin burned in the spots that Arthur touched, but he wasn’t going to let such a thing ruin this moment for him. He needed this, they both needed this. To feel whole and loved again with the other half of his soul right beside him. Alfred almost laughed at the thought knowing the flabbergasted reaction Arthur would produced if he ever said such thoughts a loud.

Alfred looked up at Arthur enjoying the soundless pleasure that displaying itself upon Arthur's face. Alfred gently rubbed Arthur's thighs waiting for the other to get used to Alfred being inside him, stretching the hole that had been unused for quite some time. When Arthur began moving, Alfred's breathing hitched for a moment as Arthur's body weighed pressed down through his hands pressing the sensitive skin of Alfred's chest.

Realizing he was pushing against Alfred's healing wounds, Arthur shifted his hands to Alfred’s shoulders. He touched Alfred's cheek with the back of his hand in apology. 

It was like nothing changed. They immediately fell into a rhythm that was just for them. After years beyond a human's life span, Arthur came to learn Alfred body as intimately as he knew his own. He took it slow for the both of them.

Alfred wished for a brief moment that he wasn’t injured simply because he wanted to hold Arthur close and feel their sweaty chests pressed together exchanging breathy kisses as they went round after round. The wish was quickly swept away as Alfred stared up lovingly at Arthur, relaxing his mind and just enjoying the moment and the sounds of their breathing mingled with soft moans and groans. Reaching up Alfred brushed a few clumps of sweaty hair away from Arthur's brow, gently dragging the back of his hand down Arthur's cheek. Slowly his hand moved down Arthur's body until it rested on Arthur's thigh limply going up and down with Arthur's rhythm. 

Arthur nipped the back of Alfred's finger as it ghosted over his face. Arthur was riding the devil and savoring every moment of it. He happened to open his eyes and catch the look on Alfred's face. His blue eyes were so clear with love and devotion. He wondered what face he was giving Alfred at that moment.

When green eyes met blue Alfred smiled, the mixture of lust and bashfulness was cute. Alfred gently laughed to himself at the strange thought of using the word on a being many millennia older and wiser than him. Alfred bit his lip as Arthur's expression changed to a pout; Arthur's gaze glared half-heartedly down at Alfred. He reached up and put his hand around Arthur's neck pulling the other down to kiss away the frown.

Arthur fell into the kiss effortlessly without upsetting the languid pace. He only shifted to accommodate their changed positions and kept rocking. Their kiss ended, but Arthur's mouth remained slanted against Alfred's, breathing his air. He picked up pace and mewled out soft moans. Arthur licked a hot stripe up Alfred's face before sitting up again. Using Alfred's knees as leverage, he thrust down at an increased pace. Lost in the motions the devil muttered unintelligibly, nonsense words that were too muffled to understand.

Alfred groaned in appreciation at Arthur's faster pace his senses becoming overwhelmed with pleasure muting out any of his skin’s discomfort, pushing it from his mind. He reached his hand forward grasping Arthur's length and started to pump the redhead in erratic tugs to overcome with pleasure to pay much attention to rhythm. His breath came quicker as he felt his climax soon approaching and he began to pump Arthur quicker, ensuring the other’s pleasurable release, as Alfred came throwing his head back exclaiming in pleasure.

Arthur bucked into Alfred's fist. Now able to further increase his pleasure while still giving Alfred the attention he needed. He was so close, teetering on the knife's edge, and the added friction was just enough to finish him off. Arthur slid his shut eyes and groaned deep in his chest when he came. The last few thrusts were deep and hard, stretching his orgasm as long as he could. Finally, he stopped. Panting and heavy-limbed, he rolled off of Alfred and onto his back. There he lay supine with his arms and legs spread out. He lolled his head and looked at Alfred with heavy, satisfied cat eyes. "Take back your control. I want you to," he moaned out, still high on the aftermath.

Alfred gently got off his back and positioned himself above Arthur; his arms placed on either side of Arthur's head. He leaned forward lazily kissing Arthur's lips slowly grinding their hips together. Very slowly Alfred felt both himself and Arthur growing hard again, hot pants broke past their lips intermingling with each other as their kisses began to pick up pace. 

Arthur let Alfred lead the kiss as promised. He moaned encouragingly when Alfred grew bolder and dragged Alfred's bottom lip between his teeth as Alfred pulled back. He rolled his hips up to meet Alfred's, but by the way he tipped his head and exposed his neck to Alfred and kept his hands at bay, he was obviously submitting to Alfred's whims and fancies. Whatever course Alfred chose to take, Arthur was receptive to it.

Alfred nipped and suck on Arthur's exposed neck as he gently stroked Arthur's sides. The way Alfred let his hands ghost over Arthur's body exploiting the redhead’s sweet spots was reverent, he touched Arthur as though their reality would shatter at any moment awakening them from this beautiful nightmare they found themselves living in. 

Eventually Alfred's primal desire won over his wish to dote and worship Arthur's body; he reached over to procure another bottle of oil from the bedside drawer. He poured the contents over his hand and generously covered his length with the lubricant. Once he felt that he was decently coated he lifted one Arthur's legs onto his shoulders, positioning himself at Arthur's entrance he turned his head and gently kissed Arthur’s inner thigh before pushing himself back into Arthur.

Arthur rolled his hips up and arched his spine as Alfred entered him. He tipped his head against the pillow and breathed out in small gasps. He was stretched enough for Alfred, but the burn from his overwrought nerves made his skin so sensitive it almost hurt. Almost. He hooked his loose leg around Alfred's hips and cinched them closer together.

Alfred waited a few moments while Arthur's breath evened out, he gently rubbed soothing circles on Arthur's hip and peppered the side of Arthur's raised leg with feather light kisses. Once Alfred saw the redhead fully relax he pulled back and thrust himself back inside of Arthur. He smiled as Arthur's breathing hitched at the action he continued at his moderate pace caring more the feeling of connection rather than raw pleasure.

Eyes closed, Arthur tuned himself in with his other senses. He listened to every hitch of breath, every murmured word in the small space between them. Alfred's hot breath ghosted over his face, and his slick sweat set made it difficult to cling to. He grabbed him under the arms and dragged his nails down his back, not to leave marks but to communicate how much he was enjoying it. The demon encouraged him to continue, dispelling any reservations Alfred may have that he was hurting Arthur.

Goosebumps raised over Alfred's skin in the spots Arthur touched, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as Arthur drug his nails along Alfred's back. He leaned forward, pushing Arthur's raised leg back and lifting the redhead’s hips further; the new angle allowed him increased control of his aim. Alfred stole up Arthur's lips with his, kissing and gently biting the plump flesh Alfred felt Arthur cry out against his lips and he knew he found his mark. Alfred continued to thrust in at a faster rhythm, brushing against Arthur's prostate repeatedly; his pace was further encouraged by Arthur's moans and exclamations of pleasure.

Kisses turned into bites when Alfred hit his prostate and didn't stop. Latching onto Alfred's bottom lip, he dragged it between his teeth as a coarse moan ripped from his chest. He called out shamelessly how good it felt, how Alfred's cock fit perfectly inside him, and how much he missed it. More and more strength was put behind Alfred's thrusts as he went on. Arthur never took it passively.

Alfred grasped hold of Arthur's cock and pumped it in time with his thrusts prompting more screams of pleasure to rip from the redhead. The cool sweat that dripped down his chest burned his sensitive skin but Alfred ignored it. He could feel himself getting close and he knew Arthur was as well, he pushed himself harder, thrusting faster to bring them over the brink.

Alfred's hand felt amazing. After the first time around, Arthur was so much more sensitive there. It was enough for him to finally succumb to the white-hot pleasure that stole his breath away. He grabbed Alfred and dragged his nails down like he always did; burning, brutal red lines tracked down Alfred's shoulders and back. It lasted for several seconds, Arthur panting and staring unseeingly at the ceiling, until all at once he slumped back into the mattress. As the awe-struck bliss slowly faded to a smoldering contentedness, Arthur lazily curled his fingers around Alfred's wings, petting the velvety smoothness as Alfred followed not long after.

Alfred softly moaned as he came, enjoying the feeling of his wings being stroked as he came down from his high. His body shook threatening to give out on him due to the overexertion of his muscles in his weakened state. He slowly pulled himself out of Arthur and collapsed onto his side still panting in exhaustion.

When Alfred flopped to his side of the bed, Arthur stretched out luxuriously, curling out his toes. He extended his limbs out before heaving a great sigh and resettling into the mattress. He looked as contented as the cat that got the cream. Speaking of which..."Not half bad." he said, swirling the cum on his stomach. He lewdly licked it off his finger. Alfred's expression made Arthur grin, and a flash of teeth betrayed his amusement.

Alfred shook his head and exhaled an exasperated sigh; he pulled himself up and placed his forehead to Arthur's, ‘I swear you’re appetite for sex is almost as bad as your hunger for blood.’ He pulled back and smiled at Arthur before gently kissing his forehead and placing their heads together again. ‘Let’s get cleaned up and then go to sleep. We have a lot of planning to do tomorrow and I’m already exhausted.’

"Plans?" he parroted, interest piqued. As Alfred pulled away, Arthur cupped his hand at the back of Alfred's neck to keep their foreheads together. 'Do tell me, pet.' Even though they were using their mental connection and he wasn't actually speaking, Arthur practically purred out the demand.

Alfred yawned, exhaustion telling him to sleep, but he did as Arthur told and divulged his plans. ‘As you’ve already said Ivan plans to turn Hearts against us, but before you arrived a message came via carrier pigeon. Ivan has already begun his trip to Hearts. I believe the best way to deal with him is to let him arrive.’

"Ah, yes. We'll leave the planning for tomorrow. And love, don't yawn in my face." He rolled onto his side, taking Alfred with him so they were facing each other on the bed. Alfred looked knackered. His eyes were drooping as if keeping them open was too much effort. Maybe it was; they had a good workout. He curled up against him, pressing flush against him so they fit perfectly together hip-to-hip. Arthur was short enough to tuck his head under Alfred's chin, a favorite position for them when they cuddled (not that Arthur would ever use the word "cuddling"). "Sleep, love," he murmured against Alfred's clavicle and gave it a little kiss.

Alfred made a soft hum of acknowledgement as his heavy eyelids finally shut, he tightened his arms around Arthur holding the other as close as possible. It was no more than a few minutes before soft snores emanated from the sleeping demon. His arms slackened, still gently draped around Arthur with the dead weight that deep peaceful sleep always brought with it.

Arthur wondered what would become of them. Would Lucifer intervene again now that his plans to divide them have foiled? To what extent had Alfred changed, and would the pieces inside of him ever be repairable? And what about Arthur...?

No answers came to him that night. All that soothed him to sleep was the drowsy, deep thump of Alfred's sleeping heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry school has been crazy lately. FINALS! Every college student’s nightmare. I’m uploading this in one of my classes actually just because I really have to try to fail this class. Anyways please rate and review. Until next time. : )


	12. Chapter 12

Ivan walked down the hallway contemplating how best to tell Hearts that their greatest ally was behind the deaths of Diamond’s royalty. He wasn’t sure how they had managed to pull it off when it took weeks to travel from castle to castle and according to his spy Alfred and his queen held a war meeting that morning. Perhaps they had hired an assassin and ordered his to pose as a soldier of Clubs. None of it made sense; Alfred had always been peaceful with Diamonds and Hearts even in times of tension between their kingdoms. Ivan also wondered how Alfred had become injured, no one his spy talked with seemed to know exactly what happened and Arthur simply kept repeating the same story they were attacked by an assassin Alfred saved them. By mere assumption the blame was automatically thought to be Ivan’s, if he was to win this war Ivan would need all the help he could get against the seemingly dark powers of Spades. 

Ivan continued walking towards the throne room where Ludwig had agreed to give him an audience provided there were many guards around to ensure the Heart’s royalty’s safety. He only stopped when he felt something crash into his legs, he looked down to see a small child before him eyes tinted a strange teal color.

"Oof!" The child crash landed flat on his rear. "Hahaha! Sorry, sir!" The boy's laughter was pure as silver bells as the child looked up at the king with an adorable, crinkling smile. Ivan helped him up, and the boy smiled as he rubbed his hind where it smarted. "You don't look like you're from Hearts. Are you another ambassador? Aren't you hot in those clothes?" The boy gave Ivan a pleased once-over and whistled at the layers of fur. 

"Truth is, I am not from Hearts, either. I was going to play hide-and-go-seek with the rest of the children, but they went to bed." He poked out his lower lip in an adorable pout. "Won't you play with me, sir?"

Ivan smiled down at the young boy and gently pat his head. “Nyet, I wish I could little one but I must attend a very important meeting. There are adult affairs that need to be tended to. Perhaps another time.”

"Oh, please!!" The child cried with such urgency it like the world was about to end. And to a child his age, it was. "Just one game!" He hopped up and down in excited agitation. "I was inside all day sitting with Ma because she's ill, and now that she's asleep I only have a few hours left to play before bed time!" Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes thinking about how he was going to go home without seeing his friends.

Ivan pitied the poor boy as he remembered his own mother dying of illness as well, this boy couldn’t have been older than ten. Instead of playing outside like other children his age, he was stuck inside trying to care for his ailing mother. Ivan sighed giving in to the child’s pleas, “Alright. Just one game. Before we play though, do tell young one, what is your name?” Ivan questioned perhaps he could ask Ludwig to send a doctor to look at the poor boy’s mother, Ludwig was a kind enough king he would most likely agree.

The child gave Ivan a smile very different from the one he had earlier. It curled tightly and sat askew on his youthful face. "It's Arthur, sir." And with that, he spun and dashed away, not stopping even when Ivan called after him. He was surprisingly fast for having such short legs, and he zipped down the halls and even deeper into the heart of the castle.

Ivan looked after the child as he ran down the hall and waited a few moments before following after him. Every few minutes he would call out, “Come out come out wherever you are.” He noticed the path the child took brought them closer and closer to the center of the Heart’s palace where the royal family resided, but what he found even more strange than their location was the lack of guards when Ludwig was obviously so wary of his presence. 

As Arthur headed further towards the center of the castle where the throne room lay, he could sense Ivan following behind him steadily catching up simply because Arthur's legs were much shorter than an adult’s at that moment. Arthur mentally recounted the plan he had previously laid out with Alfred earlier that week, the morning after they had received information of Ivan’s journey towards Hearts.

Arthur, rolling his hips and stroking Alfred's prostate at the crest of every thrust. He did this over and over as Alfred rolled his head from head side-to-side, half-delirious with pleasure. Alfred was doubled over with his legs in the air, his ankles arrested over Arthur's shoulders. "I'm going to orchestrate the slaughter of the Hearts face deck in the throne room," he continued, "It's going to look like the result of a bloody confrontation with Ivan. Of course, that's what they will think when I lure the overgrown child there. He will be caught, drenched in their blood, and all the rumors about his machinations with Diamond's assassination will be confirmed."

"How is that, my love?" Arthur asked sweetly. Alfred cried out in answer, so desperate for release that he didn't care what Arthur asked of him. Arthur was barely moving, torturing Alfred by giving him enough to keep him on the brink but withholding the final ecstasy. Driving Alfred insane with lust. "Give me your blessing, Your Highness." Arthur sighed in pleasure as Alfred scream yes, yes, anything to let him come right now. "That's what I like to hear," Arthur laughed triumphantly as he gave Alfred what he wanted. He drove into Alfred with such force that Alfred was stunned by how quickly his orgasm overcame him. Alfred came screaming, the young demon thrashing and spurting hot cum all over himself as the pleasure overrode his senses until nothing else existed. Arthur had to hold his hips in place to keep him inside. "Heh, and to think you hated the idea before," he groaned and he followed soon after.

Arthur sighed in bliss at the memory, knowing Alfred was back at the castle waiting for his return. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun while he was at it. Tricking Ivan was almost too easy, Arthur thought as he pushed open the doors to the throne room quickly ridding himself of his human guise and stretching his wings before settling down on the queen’s throne, now his throne.

Ivan startled when he heard a door being opened, he slowly approached the room the door was partially opened Ivan wondered what business a child would have to be in the throne room. Ivan gently laughed at the child’s obvious innocents and ignorance of the importance of the room, before opening the ornate doors to the throne room; he smiled and quickly opened the door announcing, “Found you.” Ivan’s smiled died on his face at the scene that lay before him. The room was covered in blood. Ivan saw the bodies of the Heart’s royalty strewn about the room drenched in their own blood. 

The boy who called himself Arthur bounded in a light, springy manner into the center of the room and slowly skipped to a halt at Ludwig's lifeless corpse. He spun on his heels back to Ivan, and his fingers laced childishly behind his back. "Yeah, I guess you did!" he cried out merrily, rocking on his heels as the coagulated blood stuck to his shoes. He lifted a foot and grounded it into Ludwig's face; all while watching Ivan's face turn to horror.

Before he could question the child before him, Ivan heard a quiet wet cough he quickly looked over and noticed the shallow rise and fall of the Jack’s chest. Ivan rushed past the child and the bodies of the King and Queen towards the only living royal of Hearts. Ivan kneeled beside the Jack noticing the deep gash along his chest, ever so gently he lifted Feliciano’s torso so the royal would be able to breathe more easily.

“Friend, tell me what happened?” Ivan asked, not caring about the bloody stains that grew on his jacket. Feliciano choked up more blood but was unable to answer. With the last of his strength the Jack lifted up his hand and pointed to where the child stood his foot still smashed into Ludwig’s face, terror shone across Feliciano’s features at the gentle smile upon the boy’s face. Ivan did not understand what the dying man was trying to tell him. The boy was obviously demented, but there was no way a child could have possibly have caused all of this. “What are you telling me?” Ivan asked in confusion. Feliciano’s hand fell and his body jerked violently as he tried and failed to take more air into his collapsing lungs. One last sputtering attempt at breath, despite his grievous injury, was all the poor man could manage before his body gave out. 

Feliciano’s head fell back as he breathed his last, Ivan felt for the jack’s pulse and found none, he quickly lay the Jack down and attempted to breathe life back into the Jack’s lungs resulting in nothing but a face covered in the Jack’s blood. He began to try and pump Feliciano’s heart for him but it was all in vain the Jack had already lost too much blood and was beyond saving. Ivan let out a cry of frustration before giving up and turning on the child. “Who are you!? Better yet what are you?” He screamed at the boy not caring if anyone heard him. 

"I asked him to hold on for just a bit longer," the boy supplied, nodding with his chin. Despite the macabre subject and fear he should be feeling in the face of Ivan's wrath, his face was clear of tension. Rather, he regarded him with a look far past his age. "I am what you see," he answered cryptically. Then, with eerie intent, the boy advanced on him. "Do you like what you see?" A giggle. "I think you like small boys. You're the sort who revels in overpowering the weak." Arthur ran his youthful hand down the outside of Ivan's pant leg. "Snapping my wrists like bird bones while you restrain my hands above my head. You're a naughty king."

Ivan subconsciously backed away as best he could still on his knees from trying to save the Jack, something told him to get away from this child. Ivan should attack him punish him for his evil misdeeds, prove his innocents by turning the boy in, and yet he could only feel the cold sting of terror take over his thoughts. “Nyet. You’re wrong I’m not like that at all. I don’t want to hurt others.” Ivan cried out weakly, he tried backing up further only to slip on the blood covering the floor drenching his clothing further with its dark reds. “Nyet, go away. Get away from me you demonic child!” 

The boy's laughter ringed like silver bells. "Your heart says no," he comically tiptoed to Ivan as the king scrambled away, "but your clothes say yes." Indeed, Ivan was covered in wet blood, cooled over and sticky. His attempts to chase life back into Feliciano's battered body left him looking no worse that the royals strewn across the floor like abandoned dolls. 

Except Ivan was alive. 

The clatter of silver mail roiled like thunder down the hall. Arthur's time entrapment spell expired, and the Royal Guard was advancing on the scene. In truth, it had been less than a few minutes from the time Arthur slaughtered Hearts and the guards were alerted to the commotion. Arthur had stopped time to lure Ivan into his trap. He would be caught, quite literally red-handed. 

When Ivan looked back to the boy, he was gone. He searched frantically around the room even as the guards forced him down and restrained his person. "Nyet! I have done nothing!" he cried in vain. Where was that cursed boy?! As he was pulled out of the throne room, Ivan thought he saw the figure of a fiery red-haired man with massive bat wings, whose legs sprawled obscenely at his seat on the Hearts throne, holding up a champagne glass filled with blood in a toast to Ivan's demise.

A week after the incident the fate of the Clubs monarchy had been decided. The Queen and Jack were to be executed at the guillotine as was tradition for monarchs sentenced to death, but Ivan for his cruel and savage attacks on the royals was to be hung in the courtyard of Spades castle and then transported to Clubs to be held on display in the town square. The royal councilmen of all but the Clubs kingdom had convened together and agreed whole heartedly (and with fuller pocketbooks) with the Spadian rulers on the punishment chosen for the crimes committed.

The royal councilmen sat in the chairs that had been arranged for them whilst Alfred and Arthur sat up a level higher on the thrones that had been specially built since the decision that Spades would take control of all kingdoms until new heirs had been born with the markings of each respective kingdom. Though both royals doubted any children would show up within their rule.

Alfred stood silencing whatever idle chatter there may have been before he looked down at Ivan as he was brought to the center of the stage where one rope hung ready to end the falsely accused man’s life. Alfred spoke in his recently healed voice announcing the crimes for which Ivan was to be executed for, “Ivan for your crimes against the royals of both Hearts and Diamonds you have been sentenced to death by hanging. As for the nature of your crimes it has been decided that you will not receive a proper burial but instead your rotting body will be displayed to the common people of your land so they may know the penalty for those who oppose order.” Alfred paused letting the finality in his tone ring throughout the courtyard. The silence that echoed back told Alfred to ask as tradition called, “Have you any last words Mad King Ivan?” 

Alfred waited a few moments for Ivan to speak, but when the other refused to say a word Alfred raised his hand gesturing to the executers to proceed. “So be it.” The courtyard watched in silence as the rope was placed around Ivan’s neck. Ivan looked up, pride not letting him wallow in self-pity, at the faces of his true executers the Royals of Spades. His sneer dropped as he caught a glimpse at the newly crowned Queen that so painfully reminded him of the small child that had so deviously murdered the Hearts royalty.

The Queen rose with Alfred, and when Alfred sealed Ivan's fate he took his place by the King's side. They wore black in mourning of the dead monarchies, prismatic hues of indigo catching the sickly glimmer of the sun. The king and queen of Spades stood in silent judgment before the Mad King of Clubs as witnesses to his execution. 

Queen Elizaveta and Jack Roderick’s remains were removed for the main event. When their heads separated from their bodies, their blood had steamed hot in the cold morning air. The monarchs were serviced by the guillotine, an invention brought back from Diamonds that gained raving popularity throughout the years. 

Arthur wanted to touch his King but held himself back. Just this once he honored the status quo in Spades and did not display his affections, if only for Ivan to see how easily he blended in with the Spadian people. Soon, it will be the entire populace of Cards. It was Arthur's first public appearance as Queen since his impetuous coronation last week held in private ceremony. 

Ivan looked upon the Queen, and thought that he had the most brilliant green eyes. They glowed absinthe, half-lidded and sensual. Ivan's eyes pulsed wide in horror. He remembered those exact eyes belonging to the boy who lead him to his fate like the damned Pied Piper. He remembered how they glittered like peridots as he felt him up through his trouser leg and glinted with shameless self-satisfaction from his perch on the throne. "You... it was you..." he whispered as the noose was lashed around his neck. Arthur gave no affect, but his lack of confusion or scandal said it all. "The Queen! The Queen murdered the Hearts and Diamonds monarchy! I will not let you steal my people away from me!" A bag was thrown over his head as the crowd screamed in protest, outraged by such heretical accusations. 

"May God have mercy on your soul," Arthur droned in perfunctory benevolence to this eternally damned soul. "And say hi to the guys for me," he purred. 

Ivan had no chance to reply; the trap door unlatched and he fell. He plummeted several feet until the rope caught just inches off the ground. Ivan's neck snapped under the force of his weight, and the crack resounded across the city square. Ivan, the mad king of Clubs, died instantly.

"Hmm," Arthur cooed musingly. "Well, that's that. We must prepare to purge Club's royal counsel and replace it with our own."

Alfred stared a moment longer at Ivan’s hanging body before turning to acknowledge Arthur, “Indeed. I suppose that we shall discuss this later this evening with the present royal councils. It should be a quick meeting; they do seem to so love our thoughts.” Alfred smirked lightly, he held his arm out to Arthur, “Come my dear, let’s enjoy some tea in the gardens before we must get to work.”

Arthur smiled kindly, like a true gentleman. He linked his hand in Alfred's elbow and allowed his King to lead him away from the gore and treachery. The public hailed them as they passed. Arthur chuckled low in his chest, squeezed Alfred's arm as if sharing in a private joke-- because it was. "I do look forward to ruling the world with my dearest," Arthur said wistfully. As Alfred's body began to fatigue, Arthur anchored him and held him steady. 

They luxuriated the afternoon in the private gardens as planned, stealing private smiles and trading innuendos. The attendants were trained to remain stoic to whatever horseplay the royals engaged in, but sometimes Arthur's antics tested their sensibilities. He wasn't rude per se, not in the way of table manners, at least. He had the constitution of true royal when it came to presentation. It was how he purposefully tested Alfred's patience with his incessant flirting that crossed the borders of scandal into debauchery. When he was bored, he sat in Alfred's lap and peppered small kisses across his clear skin while detailing in full what he wanted to do to him later that night. It was altogether uncomfortable for the staff, and they pleaded in their minds for Alfred to stop the Queen's improper behavior. Arthur, who could read their minds, was only spurred on by it. He was always an attention whore, and not just for Alfred.

“Let’s adopt.” Alfred abruptly interrupted feeling sympathetic towards the poor attendants and felt now was as good a time as ever to bring up the thoughts that had been swirling in the back of his mind. “There are many children now that are in need of homes due to the recent war. Let’s make one of those poor war orphans the happiest child in the land.”

Arthur lurched back in Alfred's lap as if he grew two heads. "Are you out of your wits?" Arthur made a disgusted face. "Absolutely not." His face soured as if he'd eaten something bitter. He hopped off Alfred's lap. All mood from before was gone, vanished into thin air. He sat back heavily in his seat and poured another cuppa. His face was closed off, and so was the topic, apparently. "I won't share you with some peasant vermin."

Alfred sighed exasperated, “Come now Arthur, it isn’t like that and you know it. We could finally settle down and have a family, a real one.” Alfred got up from his chair and kneeled in from of Arthur's, “I’ve seen the way you treat children, you’re much fonder of them than adults.” Alfred reached up and took Arthur's tea from him placing it down on the table; he then grasped both Arthur's hands in his and gently kissed them. “Think about it at least, for me. I think you would make a wonderful parent even though you can be quite strict.” Alfred gently kissed Arthur's hands again showing he meant no harm by the comment. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

"The only one I'll 'parent' is you. And with a whip." Arthur snatched his hands back with venom, snarling. He slapped his palms on the table and stood, chinaware clattering with alarming cacophony. Suddenly, a jolt of inspiration hit him, and he shoved all the chinaware off the table with a great sweeping arm. Priceless china crashed to the floor and split apart into shards. He stalked away, pushing servants out of the way with inhuman force as he went in search for ways to vent his rage.

Alfred sighed again he had a feeling Arthur would react this way, for all Arthur tried to hide it he was terrible at sharing anything of his (Alfred included). Standing up, Alfred gestured towards a servant to clean up the mess Arthur had made before slowly following after him. Alfred was unsurprised when he found Arthur in the woods behind the castle with the corpses of many creatures that dared get near him and one young chambermaid. Alfred sighed and slowly approached the redhead, his hands up in a sign of surrender.

As Alfred advanced, Arthur uttered a deep, guttural growl in warning. His muzzle dripped with blood as he crouched over his fallen prey, a chambermaid he snatched up on his way because he craved human blood and he wasn't likely to find one in the wild.

“Before you run off again Arthur, please, listen to me. Honestly, you are the one I love and if you truly don’t want to adopt a child then I will not force you to. I just wish you would be more willing and open to listen to me before you fly off the handle. I really do care about what you think and find your opinions invaluable, but you are so set in old ways. Millennia have left you stubborn and brash, but then again that’s what I love so much about you.” Alfred smiled fondly at Arthur not daring to attempt any other sign of affection until he knew the redhead had clamed down.

He tossed the dead woman's innards back into her stomach cavity and stood. His eyes glowed hatefully as he wiped his chin. "Do you wish the anger me, Alfred?" There was no reason for brats or heirs. Arthur planned to occupy the throne for a long time. Beyond that, Card's fate didn't concern him in the least. If he died, he had no prerogative to secure its safety. Cards could burn to the ground. "The suit kingdoms exist only for our amusement. You shouldn't care about what happens to their citizens. No matter how much you wish it, you will never be human, Alfred. You will never be accepted by your subjects." His eyes betrayed his hurt as he finally went to the heart of the matter. "You should only care about me."

“You’re right. I do wish I was human. I wish I had never made that deal centuries ago, but at the same time I’m glad I did.” Alfred took careful steps forward towards Arthur, “If I had never made that deal, I would have wondered through life without knowing my other half. Arthur without you my world is bleak and lonely. I don’t want to live in a world like that. I want to be the man who wakes up beside you every day for the rest of eternity, the one who makes you want to laugh even when you’re supposed to be angry with me, the one who can make even the worst of days seem worth living.” Alfred gently placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder and slowly moved it so it rested on the back of Arthur's neck. “So please don’t be angry with me I only want what’s best for you. My suggestion about adoption was merely a passing thought. Would I enjoy having a son to care for? Of course, but can I live without it easily. So long as you are by my side I have no need for anything else.”

"How pleased I am to make your life bearable, love," he sniffed haughtily. "Is this what you give me in return for nursing you back to health? I should have killed you and drained you of your life force." It was common practice for demons to kill other demons. The strong preyed on the weak. When a demon displayed vulnerability, whether through actions or with words, they were slaughtered and devoured. "At what point have I become less to you? Was it before or after you imprisoned and tortured me?" He showed no affect to Alfred's hurt expression. "Or perhaps it is my fault that I have spoiled you." His lips curled distastefully. "Well?"

Alfred sighed letting his hand fall from Arthur's neck and hang limply at his side. “Forgive me. I thought you at least would differ from all the others, obviously I was wrong.” Alfred muttered wearily before turning to leave, a momentary was of bitterness caused him to look back over his shoulder and bite out, “Obviously you care nothing for the life we have set up. Why don’t you go back to hell where a mindless creature like you belongs?” With that Alfred started to slowly walk back out of the forest following the same path he came.

"Such a human thing to say," he hissed after Alfred's retreating back. He wouldn't be surprised if Alfred took it as a complement. He watched the demon leave the clearing and disappear down the path to the castle. "Enjoy playing house with your orphaned street urchins." 

It was quiet. All that was left for Arthur was death. Once, he would have reveled in his isolation. He was known for being unusually solitary, even for a demon. Now, silence filled the empty space conversation would have filled. Arthur turned his head away, ashamed for waiting for Alfred to return. He had crossed the line, but somehow it confirmed his unease. Alfred could live without Arthur. It was a bitter truth, and Arthur never realized how much he depended on that lie. All this time he had been taking care of Alfred, but it was Arthur who was helpless without him. "I will no longer suffer your love, Alfred," he vowed. Alfred was too far to hear him, and he wouldn't have turned around, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Haha yea sorta takes a turn for the worst doesn’t it… their relationship was never healthy to begin with so something like this was bound to happen eventually… One more chapter and an epilogue and this story will be done! I have another one by the two of us that I’ll start posting right afterwards. It’s an apocalypse USUK AU so look forward to that as well. Anyways please rate and review. Until next time. : )


	13. Chapter 13

“Peter! Come along!” Alfred called out to the young boy. Peter ran as fast as his small legs could carry him before crashing into Alfred's awaiting arms.

“Papa! Look at what I found in the meadow.” Peter held up a beautifully green four-leaf clover. Alfred's eyes saddened for a moment, he wasn’t that fond of the color green presently, it reminded him too much of those beautiful green eyes that were once so near but so far. It reminded him that he was now doomed to spend his eternity alone; it reminded him that everything that had happened was entirely his fault.

“That’s wonderful Peter.” Alfred said patting the boy’s head and ruffling his hair in affection. “Come now, it’s almost time for supper and you still need to wash up.”

“Okay Papa!” Peter shouted behind his as the young boy took off in the direction of the castle. “Hurry papa you’re going to be late!” Alfred smiled and slowly followed after letting his mind wonder to the events following the downfall of Clubs.

Alfred arrived in his bedroom slamming the door behind him, he had snapped at Yao to take his place at the meeting that afternoon as mentally he was in no condition to be making laws. How dare Arthur say that to him what more did that devil want Alfred had given him everything: love, a kingdom, his very soul. Yet he had the audacity to say such things to him Arthur could run back to hell, in fact he should. Alfred would have ripped his throat out if he even dared to return, but in his heart Alfred knew he would quietly fall back into their cycle of fighting and making up as he had countless times before.

Alfred waited in his bedroom, no their bedroom, for hours he watched the sun rise and still Arthur did not return. It was then that it hit Alfred, Arthur wasn’t going to return. He tried wracking his brain trying to understand when everything had changed so much; why Arthur would abandon everything they had both good and bad. Alfred collapsed upon the bed letting a few stray tears fall down his face, he felt numb. It was over. Completely over and it was all Alfred's fault everything Alfred did or said had lead to this. Arthur had abandoned him for good this time.

Alfred shook his head trying to rid himself of the memories that so often plagued him. He had to move on it was the only way he could continue his comfortable stable life here at the castle, but he didn’t find the happiness that he thought he could in stability. There was no comfort in the coldness of the bed he slept in every night, no affection in the stillness of the mornings. All that was left was the emptiness of loneliness, not even his son could get rid of that feeling.

~

Arthur watched on as the creature he used to call his lover played with this strange boy. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Alfred smile like that. But Alfred did, once. And it was for Arthur. It was plain to see that this human boy filled the place in Alfred's heart where Arthur used to be. Thinking about it made his heart burn and the back of his eyes sting.

"My, Alfred’s getting along just fine recently." Arthur stiffened hearing that dreaded voice. He hadn't even sensed Lucifer's presence. He knew that if he were stronger, he would have. Lucifer stood by Arthur's side and watched on as Arthur had.

"Indeed, he is," Arthur answered tiredly, not bothering to address his master properly. He was so tired.

Lucifer pivoted a step and looked Arthur over. "You look like death warmed over." He laughed as Arthur rolled his eyes. Then he fixed Arthur in a steely glare. "What will you do about it?"

Arthur knew he was talking about revenge. The familiar burning wretchedness of jealousy overcame him once more, but he suppressed it. "Even if I did fight him, there was no way I could possible win." Arthur held his arms out and gestured to his body. He was covered in weeping, half-healed wounds, many of which were bite marks from where his fellow comrades fed on his life source. His wing was broken and he could not fly. His pale complexion had grayed, and the hollows of his cheeks and eyes were sickly prominent. 

"Alfred could lose," Lucifer insisted, taking a step towards him. Arthur stepped back. 

"He could lose, you say, but you didn't say I could win," Arthur said warily. Lucifer sighed. 

"You know me so well." Arthur hurriedly dashed away, making a run for it into the woods back to the portal he used his remaining strength to open. Lucifer watched with amusement. Poor Arthur couldn't even fly. 

Arthur was a hair's breadth away from entering into the portal back to Hell when a fierce iron vice took hold of his arm and pulled him back. Arthur yelped, the socket of his arm dislodging from the cruel force. Lucifer used the unbalanced momentum to capture the devil in his arms. "This is more like it," Lucifer mused as cooper eyes gazed down into fearful absinthe ones. He grounded the heel of his hand into Arthur's shoulder when he struggled and didn't release the grip on his hair that extended Arthur's neck and allowed him to watch the horror in Arthur's eyes in his final moments. "You're pathetic, really. Look at what you've been reduced to. The only reason you've been kept alive is out of respect for your age. They have raped and fed from you, but out of misplaced respect they didn't eliminate you from existence. They should have." Arthur was hyperventilating, knowing what was coming next. He couldn't cry; there were no more tears left, and in truth, he was relieved. Relieved to end his Hell. Arthur realized that he held on with the hope that he and Alfred would reunite, but now he had no desire to live anymore. Lucifer sensed that. 

Lucifer gouged his teeth into Arthur's neck. His body jolted, but did nothing else. The fang marks over his neck were enough to explain why he was so used to it. He barely moved when Lucifer tore the flesh and swallowed. He simply looked up at the firmament dividing Heaven from Earth. His eyes blurred like the clouds filming over the sky until he saw black and nothingness. Arthur's body slumped in Lucifer's arms, lifeless and drained. Lucifer straightened and licked his lips. 

He spared Arthur hardly and glance before sweeping him up under his knees and back. He carried Arthur to the castle to pay Alfred a little visit. 

"Yes," Lucifer agreed, "I didn't say that you would win."

~

Alfred mindlessly wondered the castle letting the memories of his time here soak in and he passed each room. Nothing had been the same since Arthur left, Alfred had convinced everyone that the queen had gone off at sea to oversee the reconstruction of some of the other kingdoms, but had died at sea. It was an easy enough story to pass and also gave him an excuse to mope around the castle. Since Peter had arrived things got slightly easier only because Alfred felt that he had to take care of the young boy, but now he wanted nothing more than to have Arthur back in his arms. 

And soon he would, Alfred had already made arrangements for Peter in the case of his death. A nice young pair of nobles would raise Peter as their own Alfred knew they would; Berwald and Tino were good people who had always supported Alfred's attempts to help the poor. Now as Alfred reminisced, he finished plotting his own faked death that he would carry out that evening. Alfred was done trying to be something he was not. The only thing he needed was Arthur that had always been the only constant his long life had provided and back to Arthur he would go, even if the other would kill him. 

Alfred sighed and decided he had put off the inevitable enough, he had already bid Peter goodnight while he reaffirmed that Peter would one day be a good King that Alfred would be very proud to have raised. Alfred was sure Peter knew in those wide innocent eyes that he would not see his new father alive again but said nothing. He was a smart young boy and justly deserved the future Alfred had given him. Alfred soon arrived at their, no his, bedchambers he heaved one last sigh before pushing the doors open, eyes widening in horror at the image before him.

The silhouette of a man stood waiting in front of the window. Silver beams from the full moon cast an eerie glow around his figure and the body he held in his arms. It was Lucifer, Alfred's bane and Master. He turned to face Alfred, and Alfred could see now that the body he was holding once held the life of his only friend and lover. The last moments of Arthur's eyes were forever frozen in those dead eyes: sadness, regret, and horror. The gore on his neck long since bled out, a guilty tell of what led to his demise. Arthur was slumped in Lucifer's arms, his body conforming around Lucifer's arms holding him under his shoulders and knees, just like a groom would hold his bride. Lucifer smiled.

"Ah, Alfred. I was waiting for you. It's been a while, so I thought I'd check up on you. Look who I brought with me." He hiked Arthur up in his arms to gesture to whom he was speaking of, as if it wasn't obvious. Arthur's head lolled slightly, but his eyes never seemed to have left Alfred's. "We want to tell you to come home."

“Arthur?” Alfred murmured under his breath no wanting to believe his eyes. “Arthur come on this isn’t funny.” Alfred took a few unsteady steps forward, “C-come on. Wake up, and tell me how stupid I’ve been.” Alfred's brain barely registered Lucifer laughing at his very un-demon-like behavior. “Arthur?”

Lucifer tossed his head back and let loose an unrestrained burst of laughter. Alfred was too funny. "You heard him, Arthur," he jeered, jostling Arthur's corpse in his arms. "Wakey, wakey!" His eyes gleamed when Alfred's willful ignorance became unrestrained horror. "My poor boy," he cooed, a malicious smiled curling around the words. He sounded almost sympathetic. "Why do you care now? Arthur's presence in your life is no more different than it was moments before," he pointed out. 

When he laid Arthur's corpse on the bed it became more apparent how Arthur fared when they split up. Scarred and infected wounds littered his body. His wing was crippled having been broken and healed wrong. Besides the fatal wound on his neck, bite marks told of the torment he endured under the hands of his fellow demons. Arthur had become one of "those" that other demons preyed on for sport. Arthur had looked down on them in his life, but it was apparent that in the last years the prideful demon had become what he most feared to be. "It's a mercy, don't you think?" Lucifer asked soberly, gazing down at him. "Such pride. I think they have the most fun breaking the ones who were once great."

Alfred let the grief over what had become of Arthur overtake him, it was all his fault if only he had never started that argument. If only he had never told Arthur to leave. 

If only. 

If only. 

If only Alfred had succeeded originally. If only He was dead. Alfred's grief quickly melted away to burning rage. How dare he! It was His fault! An enraged growl came from Alfred as he quickly summoned his demon sword, pointing it a Lucifer in challenge. “This is your fault! Why couldn’t you just leave us alone!? You son of a bitch! Second rate angel reject! Your own family couldn’t take your sick twisted personality and abandoned you like the trash you are! I’m going to fucking kill you like I should have done years ago!” Alfred yelled while pointing his sword manically at Lucifer. Alfred's mind clouded over with rage, his eyes looked half crazed from the grief of his loss. He was a man ready to fight even if it meant his death.

"Oh, Al. Do you know how many souls have said that to me over countless millenniums?" Lucifer chastised tutting with his tongue. He wasn't at all put off by the sword, even if it was one of the few known artifacts that could kill him. "Besides which," he guided the sharp edge away with two fingers and walked into the open space. "Your quarrel is not with me. You have hundreds of demons to contend with, all of whom ravished Arthur. One way or another." His smiled gleamed in the dark. "But if you want Arthur's true assailant, you need not look farther than the mirror." 

He cupped Alfred under his chin and slowly turned his head to the full-length mirror across the room. "Do you see yourself? It was the demon in the mirror who damned Arthur back to Hell. Displaced him from where he belonged-- by your side. He returned to Hell, but word had already gotten out. They knew how weak you made him. He fed you from his own blood like a mother bird, and he submitted fealty to your power over him. Not to mention how a demon never truly heals from holy water burns." He ran his thumb over Alfred's smooth cheek before letting go and stepped back. He regarded Alfred with infuriating pity. "How unfortunate that whenever you're naughty, it is Arthur who suffers." 

He turned his head back to Arthur's body sprawled on the bed. "Did you truly /love/ him, Al?" he asked mildly. "I thought you weren't supposed to hurt the ones you /love/."

Anguish flashed across Alfred's face once more as he stared at his reflection half listening to the horror Arthur dealt with after Alfred had sent him away. Why did he send him away? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Now Arthur was dead. And Arthur's murderer stood right beside Alfred, within blade’s reach. He may not be able to bring Arthur back, or even apologize for how stupidly childish he had been, but he could avenge his dead love. That he could do.

Alfred turned on his heels raising his sword to Lucifer, with all the strength he could bring forth Alfred sliced down with the blade. He aimed to kill. Nothing more could be done to allow Arthur to rest in peace.

Lucifer held up his arm to block it. His forearm turned to black steel, and when Alfred's sword made contact shards of light sparked on impact. Alfred reared back to swing again, but embittered passion made him sloppy, and Lucifer easily side-stepped the too-wide arch and seized his throat in steel. He lifted Alfred by his throat as a wet gagging sound choked from his capture. "You used to be the best warrior. Do you see what love makes you do? Two of my most distinguished warriors turned to ninnies because they can't keep their dicks out of each other's asses." He dashed Alfred into the ground with such force that Alfred’s shoulder shattered to pieces. A sick crunch resounded off the blue marble walls as the lesser demon’s shoulder was crushed into gravel. "This is tough love. I'm doing this for your own good."

Alfred bit his lip refusing to cry out in pain, he wouldn’t dare give the bastard that satisfaction. His sword was behind Lucifer and his shoulder broken leaving Alfred with simply his feral instincts to fight for his life. As he let out a low warning growl Alfred kicked out his legs adrenaline allowing him to ignore the excruciating pain in his shoulder. Alfred aimed for Lucifer’s waist causing the devil to bend over just slightly from the force Alfred reached forward with his good arm and wrapped his hand around the other’s ankle. He quickly hooked his foot under the knee of the devil’s other leg and quickly pushed back on his foot that was still placed on Lucifer’s waist while pulling the devil’s knee forward causing his opponent to fall hard on his back giving Alfred just enough time to get up and grab for his sword. Holding it with his good hand while his injured arm dangled by his side.

Alfred's eyes were that of an injured beast, wild and dangerous. Alfred let out another vicious growl before charging back at Lucifer aiming to relieve the other of his head. His stance was wild, but controlled if Lucifer wanted to see Alfred in all his vicious glory before he died the lesser demon was more than happy to oblige.

Needless to say, Lucifer didn't expect that. He thought Alfred would have cowed in a corner like an injured calf, but it seemed Alfred had more fight left in him. The fall knocked the wind from his lungs, and he coughed delicately. Lucifer looked up and frowned primly. That was mildly irritating. He watched the demon advance on him with a fury, and as Alfred heaved his arm up to take the final blow to Lucifer's head, the prince of darkness vanished. 

The castle shook as Alfred's sword penetrated the heart of its foundation. The marble floor cleaved apart, opening a great fissure when the floor below could be seen. Alfred had no time to recover when Lucifer swept up from behind and side-kicked the back of Alfred's knees. Alfred buckled and collapsed on his hands and knees. Lucifer then hauled Alfred up by the hair and threw him onto the bed. He landed on top of Arthur's corpse.

"I was going to play with you some more, but you chipped my nail. This little game is over," the prince of darkness growled as he held Alfred's head above Arthur's white face. "And to think I considered naming you my successor. Well, I blame myself for spoiling you." He sighed mournfully as he shoved the two lovers' faces even closer. "Think about what you did, Alfred. Think about what your careless words have done to Arthur, think about /everything/ you did that Arthur suffered for." He tightened his grip on Alfred's scalp and refused to allow the young demon to move an inch. "You didn't really love Arthur. You wouldn't have made him hurt if you did. Say it."

Alfred was forced to stare into the face of his now dead lover, to see the pain that lay etched there even after death. Arthur never deserved to have this happen to him. Calming himself Alfred turned his gaze up towards Lucifer even as his head was still forced to face Arthur's face. “Obviously you have never known love. You say things you don’t mean, you hurt the ones you should have treasured, and it is forever trying to escape your grasp. That is what our love was, a constant cycle of love and anger, but we always came back to each other because regardless of what came between us,” Alfred looked back at Arthur and if he could have he would have stroked Arthur's cold cheek muttering apologies that the other would never hear, “our love was stronger.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in Lucifer's chest. "I suppose love has bad timing. Did you know Arthur was returning to you? When he saw you in the fields with your new human son, he couldn't go on. He let me devour him. He didn't resist." Lucifer ran his tongue over his pearly fangs. "He tasted bitter. They all do when they have no will to live anymore."

“Liar.” Alfred muttered, “You’re a fucking liar! Why would I dare believe a word you say?!” Hot angry tears weld up in Alfred's eyes. It couldn’t be true Arthur hated him. Arthur wouldn’t have come back he was far too stubborn. Arthur wouldn’t have given up on life so easily. Lucifer was lying, that was the only possible option. The only option Alfred could accept because if he believed Lucifer then that would mean the faults for Arthur's death lay entirely upon Alfred. No he had to be lying. Arthur wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t do that not when Alfred was about to go apologize for everything he had done. It was a lie.

"Why would I lie when the truth is so much more painful?" Lucifer's black heart leaped in its chest seeing the crystalline tears brim around Alfred's blue eyes and flow down his cheeks. They dripped on Arthur's face and when they rolled down his cheek, it was as if they were sharing tears. Lucifer sighed lovingly. He loved his job. 

"I'm afraid our time is up," he announced, not without a little regret. "Any last words?" But before Alfred could speak, Lucifer's nails punctured Alfred's throat and ripped out his larynx. He took it by the handful and tore it out like one would gut a fish, leaving a gaping hole in his neck. Blood splashed out and poured over the tears that stained Arthur's face moments before. By Lucifer's intent, Alfred was still alive, and the demon was helpless to but watch the last moments of his life. His total failure to protect the one he loved more than anything; Arthur.

Alfred's body seized up as he fought for air, but could do nothing more than choke on his own blood. Knowing he was done and he had failed to even avenge his lost love, that he may as well have dealt the final blow himself, Alfred gazed at Arthur wanting the last thing he saw to be the beautiful green eyes of the man he loved. 

A small tear rolled down Alfred's face as he found his world slowly growing black, and on a whim Alfred found himself praying to a God that he had forsaken, one that had long abandoned him. ‘Please. If you can find it in your heart to forgive our sins, please, at least allow me to tell him how sorry I am to have failed him. That is all this lowly demon begs. Please.’ The light slowly left his eyes as his struggling for life ceased and his body became limp, devoid of the life it once held moments before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welp this is where the story ends, but fear not my loves! I have an epilogue for you! It shall be up in a few days. As always rates and reviews are much appreciated. Until next time. : )


	14. Chapter 14

No one would believe Arthur if he told them that watching people outside of a Starbucks was just as boring as watching people at a cafe in Paris. It was "a thing" to do when visiting France. He didn't know why. After all the places he has been to, after all the people he has seen, everything is the same in the end. This cafe was in just one of the many countries he visited throughout his years travelling. He had started travelling in his late teens when he graduated from college in England. Since then, he had lived in all parts of the world, but none of them he called his home. New York was just a pit stop before he road-tripped across country to the west coast. 

All his life Arthur felt like he didn't belong. There was nothing particularly special about him, but he always felt he was missing something vital in his life. That was why he travelled; to quench his thirst for answers, the purpose of his life. 

Arthur turned back to his Earl Grey and set the teabag aside. No wonder they called it a "coffee shop." No thought was put in to the tea menu. He lidded the cup again and took a sip, grimacing at the brew. If this is where his wanderlust has taken him, he was definitely losing his mind. Arthur had a good feeling about American when he stepped on its soil not one week ago, but he was beginning to think he had made another mistake.

The quiet bells on the door sounded as a not so quiet customer entered, “Hey Feli! How ‘bout you get cranky over there to whip me up the usual. Don’t forget the extra caramel cranky pants,” The customer added which was followed by a stream of angry Italian curse words that the boisterous customer laughed off. The chime of the register sounded as the cash drawer popped open prepared to take payment and return change to the customer. The quiet sound of footsteps walking over to get their beverage seemed to echo against the calm atmosphere of the early afternoon of Starbucks. 

Arthur hunched his shoulders miserably at the boisterous American accent. He had hoped Francis was wrong and that Americans weren't /that/ obnoxious (at least not as much as the French), but this newcomer was quickly proving him wrong. He had sampled one of those caramel macchiatos before; they were too sweet as it was. "Damn Yanks," he muttered a little too loudly.

“Are you chucking their stats buddy? How are they doing? From what I’ve heard it’s been a rough season for them.” The American asked as he walked over to where Arthur was seated and plopped down in the plush chair to his left. “The name’s Alfred by the way. Alfred F Jones. What’s your’s?”

Arthur straightened in his seat as the man he told off barged in on his personal space and took a seat across from him. The Briton found this more offensive than any rebuttal he could have thrown, but before he could tell this rude person to kindly fuck off, he froze.

Alfred stopped and stared into the deep green emeralds that made up the Briton’s eyes before clearing his throat and asking, “Um hello? Are you okay?” Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he continued to stare at the man before him, “Have we met before? I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve known you for a long time, but I just can’t place where.”

"I..." Arthur swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. "Have we met?" He was repeating Alfred's question, hadn't even heard Alfred speak. All that existed were those eyes and a deja vu so overwhelming he almost passed out. "No... we haven't met." He shook his head helplessly. He wracked his brain for any American celebrity or high-profile somebody that could account for his familiarity, but he could think of nothing. "I don't know any Americans. But my god..." Suddenly, unexpectedly, he took off Alfred's glasses to see his face better. "I swear I know you."

“I’m sorry.” Alfred suddenly blurted out before quickly covering his mouth and looking away. “Why did I just say that? I just met you. It’s not like I hurt you or anything, but it feels just… so right to say.” Alfred looked back at Arthur again, “I’m sorry. God if I know what for, but I am so, so sorry.”

Arthur was surprised, but he somehow understood. He nodded solemnly, not breaking eye contact. They remained watching each other, marveling but with no idea why. "I feel like..." Arthur began again, but closed his mouth. He felt like this was what his life was leading up to. All the years of restless wandering, searching for something he didn't understand. It all made sense. Somehow, this Alfred felt it, too. "Do... do you want to go to my hotel? This place isn't very private." Arthur looked around and noticed the Italian twins hiding non-too-conspicuously by the blenders.

“Y-yea. Yes I think that’s a good idea.” Alfred answered as he slowly stood up gently taking back his glasses and replacing them on his face. He furrowed his brow for a moment before continuing, “I’m sorry I feel like I should know your name. It’s on the tip of my tongue…” 

"It's Arthur." Arthur's breath didn't leave his lungs until he saw the look of recognition on Alfred's face. "This better not be a joke," he muttered, but it sounded more like a prayer. As they walked out Arthur marveled at how familiar it felt to walk by his side. Even height difference --Arthur was half a head shorter than Alfred-- was uncanny. On their way back to the hotel, Arthur caught Alfred watching him, and he stole some looks of his own. 

Arthur opened the door to his suite and dumped his bag in the corner. It was a fairly nice hotel, not upscale, but comfortable. He was lucky enough to be able to travel freely on his parents' good graces.

Arthur gave the bed a cursory glance before motioning perfunctorily to the table set for two. "Have a seat."

Alfred sat down across from Arthur reeling at the sense of déjà vu. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off of Arthur as though if he even dared to blink he’d wake up from this strangely beautiful dream. Alfred smiled when Arthur's gaze met his, suddenly his life felt complete. He was no longer the guy who smiled even though he felt as though half of himself was always missing, he had finally done it. He found his other half, he didn’t quite know how he knew it, but it just felt right. “You know I used to laugh at guys who said they fell in love when they first saw their partner, but now I guess I have no choice to acknowledge it really happens. I don’t know how I know it or even what’s making me feel this way, but you’re it. You’re the one I’ve always been searching for, Arthur.”

A flood of red hues rushed his face, but Alfred's forwardness relieved him. He didn't have to spill over his inexplicable feelings for this stranger. "It's... strange, isn't it? I don't believe in fate," he admitted, "but for as long as I could remember, I was never quite happy with where I was. I always traveled." He hoped Alfred understood what he couldn't say; that he had been searching for Alfred his whole life and went so far as to cross land and seas to find him.

“And now you’ve found me. And I you.” Alfred let out a gentle happy laugh, “We know nothing about each other but it feels like I could write a book on who you are, and all your little habits. This is crazy and I have no idea why I’m about to say this to someone I just met, but move in with me. I know I can’t go another day without you beside me. God knows we’ve spent a millennia apart and now I won’t let anything take you away from me again.”

"A millennium?" Arthur's lips quirked in amusement. "That's somewhat specific. Not a hundred years? Five hundred?" 

The Briton leaned back, alarmed by Alfred's proposal. "What?! Al, I don't know..." The nickname passed unnoticed. "I was planning to go across country. Why don't you join me? Or if your job holds you down, I can stay with you and keep my hotel room." That was a moderate compromise considering Alfred's alternative. Arthur's heart was beating out of its chest. He wanted to move in. He wanted to so badly, but this time his rationale won out. 

"This is mad." He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it up. It was a nervous habit, one he did when he was thinking and under stress. He flicked his eyes back to Alfred, and his heart skipped a beat.

“When have we been anything but mad? I don’t care about my job I’d leave it in a heartbeat to stay near you. Just don’t leave me again. Please I don’t want to be alone again.” Alfred suddenly stood up quickly moving to kneel in front of Arthur's chair. “Forever, just like I know we promised so many years ago.” 

Alfred slowly placed his hand of the back of Arthur's head drawing their lips together in a gentle kiss. Alfred's heart swelled in blissful happiness as Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck deepening their connection. It felt so pure, so right. Like every event Alfred ever experienced was leading up to this moment. Every strange dream about kingdoms and demons had lead him here, to Arthur, to his future, and to his past.

Arthur was captivated. He was enthralled. Alfred was repeating the words long echoed in his dreams but never remembered upon waking. Kissing Alfred was as natural as breathing; he dropped to his knees with Alfred and wrapped his arms around him. Between gasps of breath Arthur whispered a litany of nonsense things such as "my dear Alfred," and "you're finally here." He could feel the shape of Alfred's smile against his lips, and he couldn't help but laugh. Was this really happening? He didn't want to wake up.

This time it will work out. Somehow, Arthur knew their lives ended in tragedy. There was no finality, no goodbye. Just sorrow, and an unfathomable depth of regret. Arthur stroked Alfred's hair as if to console this old Alfred who couldn't say goodbye. "It's not your fault. I forgive you," he said as their lips finally parted. He laughed as flash of pain passed Alfred's face; not out of spite, but because they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. Arthur suddenly understood as he looked into those innocent yet time-worn eyes. This time, as humans, flawed and vulnerable, they could right the wrongs their terrible and arrogant past selves could not. They were meant to find each other for a reason.

"But if you must repent," Arthur went on with a smile and a kiss, "you have your whole life to make it up to me. Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That’s all folks. What did you think? We basically went with a “new world, new dimension” theme for the conclusion with just the barest hint of memories still intact. Anyways I just posted up the first chapter of our next story Haven I hope you all enjoy that one as much as you did this one. Thank you for following this story through to the end, love you guys. Until next time then. : )


End file.
